He Doesn't Know Why
by SARuhh
Summary: ChangedFuture. Chris is the black sheep of his family. He hates being a witch and is trying desperately to seperate himself from his family and their magical heritage. To make matters worse, he's being plagued by visions of a dark future and another him.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! WB owns Charmed and Fleet Foxes owns the title!**

Alright, here's my second attempt at Charmed FanFiction. My last story is stuck in what seems to be a permanent writer's block, so I'm giving this a try.

If no one really likes it, I'll just stop writing it. I've got another story I'm working on for Gilmore Girl's too, so I have that to fall back on.

Enjoy the first chapter!

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"_Oh Christopher," Wyatt paced back and forth with ease, keeping a watchful eye on his younger brother. He wore all black, his leather trench coat tail falling behind him, lifted upward do to his strides. He suddenly stopped and turned as he noticed his brother trying to fight the restraints that held him in place. The chains clanked as they smashed into cold concrete, and Chris tried to focus, perhaps trying to use the last of his strength to break the chains with his telekinesis. Wyatt watched with amusement as the younger Halliwell tugged and pulled at the heavy chains, his raw and bloody wrists rubbing up painfully against the sharp metal cuffs. His attempt wasn't working, sadly, and he was too weak to use any of his powers._

_Wyatt clicked his tongue, "Christopher, Christopher, Christopher. Stop trying to break free, watching your sad attempts is rather painful." _

_Chris continued trying to free himself, ignoring his brother's comments. The pain in his wrists were unbearable, but he kept trying to pull free. Red and raw wrists were only a small price for freedom. _

_His brother's boots smacked against the ground in a strong stride as he elegantly made his way over to the younger boy. He leaned down and cupped the boy's chin, forcing his brother's head up gently. The boy's brown hair fell away from his face and revealed his jade eyes, "I said _stop it, _Christopher." Wyatt repeated, this time with a more authoritative tone._

_Christopher stared up at his brother, fighting to keep consciousness. His lips curled into a smirk and he matched his brother with a provoking glare, "Make me," he challenged with a raw voice. His smirk grew wider as he waited._

_Wyatt let out a laugh and turned, taking a few steps back, "Oh, Christopher, you always loved to compete with me." His hand slid into his pocket as he turned, watching his brother with a matching smirk, "We always used to see who could pull off the best spell or who was stronger." He took steady steps as he made his way back over to his brother, "You were quite good with spell casting, I remember," he kneeled down in front of his brother, the boy's eyes following him with a challenging glare, "But you were never quite _stronger _than I was, were you?" _

_Wyatt let out a sigh and stood back up, turning once again to take a few strides back, "I'm going to ask again, Christopher," he told his younger brother as he turned to face the boy, hands behind his back, "Join me. With your strategic skills and my strength, we could rule this world side by side." _

_Chris let out a rough, painful laugh--a mix of both coughing and chuckles. He looked up at his brother between dirty, blood-caked strands of hair, "Wyatt, how many times must we go through this? I. will. never. join. _you."

_Wyatt let out a disappointed sigh and shook his head regretfully, "Fine," he spoke, "if you really want to do this, then we will." _

_Wyatt flung his hands out from behind his back with a swift motion and threw an energy ball his brother's way as if it was nothing more than a baseball. The purple and black ball hit Chris faster than he could imagine, and he let out a blood-curling scream. He had wanted to contain it, but he was just too weak to keep on his usual unaffected mask. Pain was bleeding through the cracks and he could do nothing to stop it._

_Wyatt strode up to him in quick, paced steps and leaned down to his fallen brother's form. The younger Halliwell lay motionless on the cold cement floor, his breath coming out in hard, painful gasps. _

"_I told you Christopher," Wyatt spoke up, sliding a hand gently into his pocket, "I was always stronger."_

_Wyatt slid a dagger out of his pocket, hand gripping the cold steel handle tightly. He shoved the dagger straight into Chris' shoulder, the boy letting out a sharp gasp. The pain was excruciating, and he could instantly tell that the dagger had been poisoned. He felt as the poison began its way slowly through his blood, and held in the screams that were dying to come out. _

"_Christopher ... _Chris!"

Chris sat up with a start, the door to his room slamming open right as he sprung up. Wyatt stood before him, dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt. No trench coat, no black, none of it, "Mom says to get up. It's 7:43: you're going to be late," he paused, his lips curling into a smirk, "speaking of late, when did _you _get in last night again? A time that mom and dad definitely wouldn't approve of ... and come to think of it, in a _state _that mom and dad wouldn't approve of either."

"Get out, Wyatt!" Chris yelled as he swung his arm out, causing the door to slam straight in his face.

"Now," Wyatt called from behind the door, voice muffled and softer as he walked towards the stairs, "That is what we'd consider personal gain!"

Chris whipped the sheets off his bed and swung his legs off the side. He stood up and made his way over to his dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans, a shirt, and a sweatshirt. As he yanked off his shirt, his eyes fell down to the spot where Wyatt had stabbed him in his ... what was the name he had come up for it? It wasn't a premonition for him; they usually didn't happen when he was asleep, and that felt too real to be a dream. He had felt that knife sliding in, he swore it. The pain had ripped through his own body just as it did to the other him. It would be considered a vision, he supposed. That was the name he came up for it. He didn't know if it was real or not, but, God, did he hope it wasn't.

His eyes fell down to his shoulder, looking to find any kind of marking to prove that _something _had happened. There was no gash though, and his skin was perfect and unscarred. He rubbed a hand over the part where the blade had broke through in his vision. There was nothing, the pain was gone and all he was left with was this strange feeling about it all.

Chris' eyes fell onto the clock on his night table and cursed when he noticed the time. He quickly slid on his t-shirt and shrugged into his sweater. He stepped into his jeans as he made his way over to his bed. Kneeling down, he began to dig under the frame, patting the bare ground until his hand hit the box he was looking for. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and slid them into a hidden slot in his backpack that sat at the foot of his bed. He never went anywhere without a pack of cigarettes now a days, especially with these visions he'd been having lately. They confused him, and whenever he tried to sort them out, he'd suddenly crave a cigarette. The visions freaked him out, to be honest, and the fact that whenever the other him was in pain he felt it equally was a real annoyance. Being a Halliwell, he had gotten used to pain like that, but it didn't mean that it still didn't hurt like hell. The pains made him almost want to tell his mom or dad about it, but he quickly decided otherwise. They would want to know what he was seeing, and he didn't want to tell them. Wyatt wasn't evil, his dad and him weren't estranged, and his cousins weren't being picked off left and right by _Lord _Wyatt. Maybe there was some non-magical explanation to all of this, he thought as he exited his room and headed down the stairs, turning into the kitchen, maybe he was just going crazy or something.

"Chris!" his mother's scream quickly snapped him out of his thoughts, causing him to look up at the dagger that was flying his way and the demon that had sent it. With a quick wave of his arm, he sent the demon flying backwards into a wall before dashing aside in an attempt to dodge the dagger. He had been too slow, and the dagger hit him in the shoulder, the same spot where Wyatt had stabbed him in the dream. The dagger had been aimed for his heart but, somehow, the knife hit him in the same exact place as it had in his vision.

"Shit!" he cursed as he fell to the ground, cradling his hurt shoulder. He felt the same amount of pain, the same burning sensation traveling through his blood. It was poisoned, "Oh shit!" He exclaimed, eyes wide at the realization. He quickly pulled out the dagger and threw it to the floor. His crimson red blood stained the shining metal blade. Droplets fell onto the floor and he quickly went to cover the wound, his eyes traveling up to watch the scene in the kitchen.

Wyatt had taken over, his arms flailing about, energy balls being shot out left and right. Piper had on an angry and aggressive expression, her hands out and ready to blow up the demon if necessary. Once Chris had sent the thing hurdling into her cabinet she knew things were going to get messy. Leo watched from beside his wife, eyes glued to the fight being played out between his eldest son and the demon. They all watched as the demon dodged the energy balls quickly, the balls instead hitting against wooden cabinets and pans instead. The kitchen was a mess, and the breakfast Piper had made was spilled all over the floor, pieces of toast and trails of eggs scattered about the tile. The demon suddenly threw out another dagger, this time towards Wyatt. Paige had orbed in somewhere after Chris had been hit, and she quickly swung out her hand and called out its' name, orbs consuming the small metal and sending it straight towards the demon, hitting it square in the heart. The demon was consumed in a mad swirl of orange and blue flames, and Paige wiped her hands and crossed her arms, "Aren't you happy that I stopped in this morning?" she asked with a smirk, turning her head to the side to look at Piper.

Piper rolled her eyes at her sister, stopping them quickly when she spotted her youngest son slouched against the door frame, clutching his shoulder and breathing slowly.

"Chris!" she called, causing all four sets of eyes to go wide and as they spotted the condition the youngest Halliwell was in.

Paige, being the closet to the boy, was at his side first, her hands held up against the gushing wound. The other rushed to his side, Piper and Leo kneeling down next to Paige, each wearing expression of worry and fear. Wyatt stood behind his parents, wearing a similar expression as his parents. Paige waited for the golden glow to illuminate the area around the wound, but when nothing happened, she grew frantic.

She looked behind her towards Leo and Piper, fear lacing her features, "It's not working," she told them, voice frightened.

"The dagger was poisoned," Chris' voice caught their attention, and they all looked down towards him. His eyes were partially opened now, and he looked up towards Wyatt, skin incredibly pale.

"Why are you just standing there?" he asked his brother, "Get your ass over here and heal me."

"He can't heal you, Chris. If the dagger was poisoned--which I don't understand how you know--we need to find the antidote--" Leo started, looking over his son's wound with worry before getting cut off by the boy.

"No, you don't," his eyes travelled from Leo to Wyatt, "Wyatt can heal me. Just trust me on this, I _know _hecan." He couldn't explain it to them, they wouldn't understand. Wyatt had stabbed him in the dream, and he knew his brother was bent on getting the other him to join him, so he would not kill him. That meant that the poison that Wyatt had used for the dagger had to be weak enough that the Twice-Blessed could heal it himself. The poison running through his blood now had the same burning sensation as the one Wyatt had used in his dream, and it couldn't be a coincidence that the dagger hit the same exact spot.

Paige, Leo, and Piper all looked up at the older boy, moving aside to let him kneel down in front of his brother, "Chris..." Wyatt started, but was cut off by his brother's roll of the eyes as Chris' weak hands grabbed onto his wrists, forcing his hands up to his injured shoulder, "I just _know," _he insisted, looking up at his brother, his dulled jade eyes meeting Wyatt's lively ones. Within seconds, the golden glow that had not appeared from Paige's hands illuminated from Wyatt's, and each member of the family went wide-eyed as they watched the wound close up and Chris' limp body regain its life.

Chris stood up from his spot on the ground and examined his healed shoulder while his family stared at him with curious and bemused looks. He moved his stiff shoulder around until the stiffness had vanished almost completely.

"Chris," Leo started, watching as his son pulled at his blood stained sleeve, "How did you--"

"Dammit," Chris cursed, "this was one of my favorite shirts," he released the fabric from his fingers, eyes still staring at the red stained fabric. He gave a shrug of his shoulders and grabbed his backpack from off the ground and made his way over to the stairs.

"I've got to get changed quickly, don't want to be late for school," his eyes fell onto Wyatt, who wore a similar expression to his father's, before turning back to his parents, "By the way, if Wyatt tells you I was out past curfew last night, he's lying," Chris gave them a small smirk and turned, "actually, anything he tells you about last night is all a lie." With that, the youngest Halliwell ran up the stairs and quickly entered his room to find a change of clothes.

"So, Chris is still rebelling?" Paige asked, causing Wyatt, Piper, and Leo to set their gazes her way. Paige's lips curled into a smirk and she crossed her arms, her eyes moving upwards towards the second floor, "He takes after Phoebe. He even started having premonitions around the same time as her."

"Let's hope he isn't _as_ badas Phoebe was, then," Piper spoke with a roll of her eyes. It was true that Chris had started to rebel, but she liked to believe it wasn't as bad as Phoebe's rebellion. Phoebe had taken the word deviant to new extremes. Piper was surprised she even made it past eighteen. Chris, on the other hand, hadn't been doing things that were too bad. Coming home late and disappearing for hours with no word was the worst she had caught him doing. Hopefully he wasn't doing anything worse...

Wyatt held back a snort and crossed his arms, eyes turning towards the stairs. His brother was probably ten times worse than Phoebe, if he knew anything about who his brother was. Sure, the boy didn't get into much trouble at school and came home with descent grades, but when he went out with friends he really went wild. The night before, when Chris had orbed in past curfew into his room by mistake--completely drunk and staggering--he had witnessed it first hand. He had had to help his brother get to his room as quiet as possible, and when you were dealing with a drunk sixteen year old, that was hard. That night, though, Chris had admitted something that really peaked his interest. He had asked his brother why he kept doing this, why he got so drunk like this, and the kid responded, _"You don't have to deal with seeing all that shit," _Chris shut his eyes and adjusted himself on the bed,_ "You don't have to see it, but _I_ do." _He had asked what he had meant, wondering if his younger brother meant his premonitions, but Chris was already out cold.

"Wyatt?" His mother called out his name, and the older Halliwell quickly snapped back into reality. Piper was standing in front of him, arms crossed.

"Huh?"

"Is your brother still upstairs, or did he already orb out?" she asked, probably knowing the answer before Wyatt even had to try to sense him.

"He's at school," Wyatt said after a moment, having to concentrate to get a fix on his brother. The younger Halliwell had been trying pretty hard to break off their bond, but it never seemed to work for him. He usually resorted to blocking him now a days, when he didn't want to be found or he didn't want Wyatt to know where he was. Chris wasn't dumb, the kid knew he'd report his brother's whereabouts if he was anywhere that he would deem sketchy.

Piper nodded her head and turned to look towards her husband. They were going to have to have a talk with their son later that day, she knew that, and so did Leo. He gave her a nod of understanding and looked towards their other son, "Get off to school, Wyatt, you're going to be late."

Wyatt nodded, but didn't make a move. He hesitated for a moment, before speaking up, "How did he know I'd be able to heal him?" He had spoken the question that had stayed on everybody's minds since the golden glow had came from Wyatt's hands.

"I don't know," Leo spoke up. He had no clue how Chris knew that, and most poisons could not be healed by the skills of a Whitelighter. Maybe it was because Wyatt was Twice-Blessed. That factor did strengthen both he and Chris' powers. Maybe Wyatt's healing was strong enough to heal that type of poison? He'd have to look it up at Magic School later, there had to be some sort of explantation of how Wyatt did it and how Chris knew it would work. He had found Chris in the vast library at Magic School quite a few times, so he was suspecting he had read it in one of the many books that adorned the shelves, "I've got to get to Magic School," Leo told the three, eyes landing on Paige, "classes start soon."

"We should go," she strolled over to her brother-and-law and place her hand on his upper arm, "tell me when you guys figure out an answer though, I'm just as curious as you three as to how Chris knew that," she gave her sister an assuring smile and added, "I'll see you tonight for dinner."

Piper gave a nod and waved as she watched her sister and husband orb away. She turned to her son, who had gone off for a few seconds the retrieve his backpack from the kitchen, and gave him a smile, "You better get going too," she told her son, "I'm going to have to get started on cleaning up the kitchen. It's a disaster zone in there."

Wyatt gave a nod, but caught his mother's worried glance. He knew she was still thinking about Chris and his latest string of rebellions. She always worried about what he was doing and why he was doing it. She wondered where the old Chris had gone; the one who would sit in the kitchen and help her bake a batch of cookies, the one who actually _liked _to spend time with his family. Now all Chris did was try to get away from them.

"Don't worry, mom," he assured her, catching her attention, her brown eyes going wide, "Chris is going to end up okay. Phoebe did, didn't she?"

Piper let out a sigh and nodded. Wyatt kept up his assuring smile, something that always seemed to send comfort to his mother, before orbing out: he was incredibly late for school.

Piper just stood there, thinking over what had happened earlier that day with the demon and the conversation the four of them had had about Chris. Everyone just said he was going through a phase like Phoebe. Paige, Henry, Leo, Coop, and even Phoebe kept assuring her this was all just some passing thing. They said it was no big deal, and that he was going to blow past this just like Phoebe did.

"I don't think this is like Phoebe's," she spoke up, admitting her fear aloud even though no one was there to hear, "I think this may be worse."

She didn't know why, but she had a feeling there was something behind all of this, something that Chris was hiding from them. That gut feeling told her it was something terrible, and that they wouldn't find out about it in a good way. Something was going to happen, she just didn't know what.

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Thank you all for reading, and tell me what you think!

If no one really likes it I'll take it down and be done with it. It was just an idea that came to me, and I wanted to try it.

Thank you all for reading and hopefully reviewing! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own ideas!**

Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews! I'm so happy to hear you guys like the story!

Updates won't usually come as fast as this, but i had time to edit another chapter, so I decided to do it!

Enjoy, and please keep up the reviews!

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The smoke filled Chris' lungs, and the feeling that swept over him was calming and relaxing. The day had been long and since that morning he'd been craving a nice smoke. He sat, back against the stone brick wall under a bridge, eyes watching the children that swung and played on the play-set that sat in the park. He remembered playing on it when he was younger. He and Wyatt used to chase each other around, climbing up ladders and through small tunnels, wearing bright grins and laughing joyfully. His mother would usually sitting on the bench a few feet away from where he sat at that moment, but sometimes it would be his Aunt Phoebe or Paige, or even his father. He didn't have many powers then, spare for orbing--something both he and Wyatt developed rather early in life, causing their parents a lot of stress and grief in the years to come--and his childhood at that time had almost been normal. Magic wasn't such a huge part of his life back then as it was at the moment. Yes, it was still a prominent part, but it wasn't like how it was right then. He was just a carefree, innocent, normal child, who had time to play tag with his brother (even if their form of tag involved orbing to different parts of the city) and wasn't worrying so much about fighting demons.

"Chris," his head snapped in the direction of the call, eyes falling onto a brunette that sat by his side, "you haven't been listening to a word I've said, have you?" She gave him a small smirk as she watched the sides of his lips curl up as he took a drag.

"Nope," he responded, eyes falling onto his other friend, "have you, Landon?" The blonde boy who sat beside him, cradling a hidden bottle of whiskey in his coat pocket, let out a laugh, his long shaggy hair moving back with his head, brushing against his shoulders.

"I've been a little too concentrated on finishing this bottle," he joked, taking a swig of the whiskey, "I believe Zooey was ranting on about your bad habit of chain-smoking, or something related to that."

Landon took another swig and let his head rest against the brick behind them, eyes looking up towards the setting sun before falling back on the playground. Chris remembered that the park was where he had met the now infamous Landon Carraway when he was only five years old. The wild blonde haired boy had been running around energetically up and down ladders and slides when he accidentally bumped into Chris. He had helped the little boy up, before giving him a short apology and a gap filled smile, showing off where his first tooth had fallen out. Landon then asked if he wanted to play a game, and Chris, of course, answered with an excited yes and a whimsical grin. From that day on, the two became inseparable and extremely close. Landon was his best friend, and always would be.

"I was not _ranting_," Zooey exclaimed with a roll of her eyes as she crossed her arms, "I was merely pointing out facts." She leaned back against the hard brick wall, watching as Landon took another long suck at the bottle.

Chris took a drag and looked over at his friend with a smile, "You're always 'pointing out facts,' Zooey," he teased, swiping the whiskey bottle out of Landon's hand as he held it out towards them, exclaiming, _'Very true, old chap' _as he lifted the bottle to toast. Chris took a swig and waiting to let the strong whiskey settle in his stomach before holding it out towards Zooey.

The girl shook her head sternly and held a hand out, "No thanks," she spoke, "I'd rather not get drunk tonight, if you don't mind. I have a recital tomorrow, if you two have already forgotten." She watched as Chris handed the bottle over to Landon, her hand falling onto the undone button of her black peacoat, "You are still coming, right Chris?" She looked up towards her friend as she finished buttoning up, "I know you can't come Landon, your mother doesn't think too fondly of me and Chris."

Landon mumbled a weak, but sincere apology for his mother's antics, before taking another quick and long swig at the mention of the woman. Landon's mother was a very strict, bitter woman, and the kid hated her more than anything. He had once stated that he believed people like her she be made infertile, to save their future offspring from the hell they would be forced to live in.

Zooey looked over to Chris, who greeted her with a smile, "Have I ever missed one of your dance recitals?" he asked, tapping off the ash on the end of his cigarette, still wearing a smirk, "I believe I've been coming to them ever since you started ballet when you were six."

Zooey smiled and crossed her legs, adjusting herself so she could sit up straight, "And I never missed one of your piano recitals."

Chris' expression suddenly changed at the mention of his old hobby, smile falling quickly. He hated to think of how not so long ago, he was still playing the piano and creating pieces while pounding out notes from the keys. He stopped right after the visions started up, and now he could never get himself to play. He was so preoccupied with what the hell was going on with his mind and why he was seeing the things he was that piano just became obsolete to him. He still loved to just sit on the stool and pound on the keys whenever he could escape his visions and family though.

He sucked hard against his cigarette and released the smoke through his nostrils, "That you didn't," the smoke came out of his mouth as well as he spoke. His lips didn't crack a smile though, much to Zooey's displeasure, but he did put out his cigarette, pushing the end hard into the gray cement, "I've got to get home," Chris informed his two friends as he stood up, "it's Friday, and the Halliwell family is having their weekly family dinner."

"Skip it," Landon suggested with a simple tone, taking a swig of whiskey.

"Can't," Chris replied, eyes falling onto Zooey, who had stood up next to him, "I skipped the last one, and my mom gave me hell for it."

Landon let out a laugh, "Piper gave you hell?" he pulled the bottle out once again, some of the whiskey splattering onto the pavement, "You want to get hell, come spend a night at my house and get yelled at by the devil herself." He took a drink and held the bottle up to his friend, "One for the road?"

"Nah," Chris held out his hand, motioning that he was refusing, much to Zooey's surprise. Her lips curled into a smile, happy that her friend had refused a drink; he hardly did that anymore, "I can't come home drunk for a family dinner, that wouldn't go too well with my mom."

"Suit yourself then," Landon said with a shrug, bring the bottle back down to his side, "I'll see you two later," he looked over at Zooey and hoisted up his drink to her, "do me proud at that recital," he told her with a smirk, receiving a sweet smile back from her as he lowered the drink once again.

Once the two were out of earshot from Landon, Zooey quickly started up, tone beaming with excitement and curiosity, "So, I heard that a demon attacked your family this morning," she stuffed her hands in her coat pockets as they continued walking. Chris looked up at her, wearing an annoyed expression, "What?" she asked, "It's not my fault your dad and my dad are friends," she watched as Chris pulled out another cigarette, tempted to grab it from his hands, "they work at the same school."

Chris flicked the thumbwheel of his lighter, trying to produce a flame. His attempt was in vain though, because all he got was a small spark. His was out of fluid. He wanted to smoke, he was really craving a stick bad right then. The fact that Zooey had to bring up the demon attack and as well as the fact that he was heading home to have dinner with his eccentric family really made his addiction kick in.

He suddenly got an idea, and looked up towards Zooey, giving her a pleading expression. She was bemused for a moment, before her eyes caught onto the cigarette that hung from Chris' lips, unlit.

"No," she exclaimed with a shake of her head, "I am _not _going to help you get lung cancer. I'd like to see you live out a full life, thank you very much."

"Oh, come on, Zooey," Chris rolled his eyes as they turned the corner onto a street lined with houses, "it's just one cigarette, and besides; I'm part whitelighter, which means I'm technically already half dead anyway. What is a little cigarette going to hurt?"

They walked in silence for a moment, Zooey trying to stand her ground. Her eyes fell onto the cigarette that her friend held out her way. He was wearing that stupid grin, because he knew they both already knew what she was going to do. With an irritated sigh, she snatched the cigarette from her friend's hand, "I'm not doing this again," she informed him, pulling them between two house, out of sight from the public eye. After checking to make sure no one was around, she let a burst of orange and yellow flame appear in her hand and she held the end of the cigarette to the flame. Once the thing lit, the flame vanished quick from her palm and she handed the cigarette back to Chris.

They started their way out from between the house, and Chris inhaled and exhaled a hazy cloud of smoke, "You're like a human lighter," Chris teased, taking another drag, "I wish _I_ had that power."

"I thought you _hated_ being a witch?" She jibed with a smirk, crossing her arms.

"I do," Chris admitted after a moment, taking the cigarette out from between his lips and tapping the ash off the end, "especially being the son of a Charmed One _and _an Ex-Elder, but the powers are somewhat of a plus side, depending on what you get."

"Ah," she held up a finger as she spoke, "but each power starts as a burden until you can control it. Remember when you first got telekinesis? Your mother had to pack up the valuables for months," she gave a small laugh, "Landon and I weren't allowed to see you either. Your parents didn't know when your power would act up, and you told me you hated it and wished for it to go away."

Chris took a drag and nodded. He had hated that power when he first gained it. Being Twice-Blessed had caused for an increase in it's strength, and at times he would cause the whole house to shake. It took him a whole summer to learn how to control it somewhat, and he had hated being locked up in that house, being forced to take lessons with his father and Wyatt. Now, the power came in handy when it came to demons. He had come a long way since he first obtained that power.

"I never understood why you hated being a witch," Zooey went on, watching as Chris gazed her way, exhaling smoke, "I love it. It's such a great thing to be so different from everyone else."

Chris rolled his eyes at his friend. She was so in love with the Wiccan world. She and her father both shared the interest and they both had shelves of books stacked with text on witches and demons and spells. Zooey was an expert when it came to anything Wiccan, and she was always dying to learn more. She knew everything about each major demon coven and even knew everything there was to know about his own family. He always wondered why she had chosen going to a normal high school instead of Magic School. He suspected it had something to do with his decision to try to be a normal teenager. To make up for her lack of a magic oriented school, she forced Chris to come demon hunting with her on a weekly basis. She'd make him orb her straight into a coven of angery, but unsuspecting, demons and fight them all until each and every one that was in the area was vanquished, Chris hated it--he was trying to get away from all that, not orb himself straight into the fight--but he did it for her. She had been one of his best friends since the day he first went to Magic School with his father. They met at day care, and hit it off quick.

"You should love it more than I do," she added, "you're on of the most powerful witches ever to exist."

"Being that powerful and being the offspring of a Charmed One makes everything ten times harder," He told his friend, "Demons are always attacking, the Elder's are watching us with a much closer eye--things are just so much harder for any Charmed child, especially a Twice-Blessed one," Chris looked over towards his friend as he stopped to drop his cigarette on the ground and stomp it out. He paused for a minute, mind still stuck on the odd fact that she loved being so different, before speaking up, "Don't you ever want to just be a normal teenager?" he asked, his friend going wide eyed at the question, "Don't you ever want to have to just worry about normal things like keeping up your grades or finding a boyfriend instead of having to worry about exposing magic or demons attacking at all hours of the day?"

She thought for a moment, before speaking up with a small smile, "I like both the good and the bad parts of being a witch," she told him, "it makes life so much more special and interesting."

The two stopped as they reached the Manor, eyes falling on the red house, "So," Zooey started, wearing a wide grin, "Demon hunt for the demon coven that attacked your family tomorrow after my recital?"

She wore an expression of hope and excitement. Demon hunts were a favorite of hers, and this time she thought maybe Chris would be more willing to go since this demon had attacked him. "There's something very wrong with you, Zooey Daniels," he told her with a smirk.

"Tomorrow around four, then?" she asked, smile still beaming as she waited for an answer.

"Yeah," Chris agreed, taking a step towards the Manor.

"Have fun at your dinner," she called from the sidewalk as he hiked up to the house.

"Hardly likely I will," he replied back as he reached the door, turning to give her one last smile and wave. She laughed and started her way down the road as Chris entered the house.

It was quiet, and all he could hear was the faint clatter of pans and pots being moved about in the kitchen by his mother and the hum of the TV in the family room. His aunts and their family's hadn't arrived yet, thankfully. He had a feeling if he had come into a full house of young witches, running around and yelling and screaming, he would have walked right back out.

He made his way upstairs and into his room. He was tried, which wasn't an uncommon thing for him. Actually, it had become somewhat of a normal feeling for him lately. Ever since those visions started a little over eight months ago, his sleeping patterns had gone a little whack. Things weren't so bad at first; the visions had started out as simple, dream-like flashes of his life. He had had some dreams of a little other him running around and playing tag with Wyatt, very similar to when he and Wyatt used to play in real life, and others about his father missing a few birthday parties. His other self seemed to hate his dad with a passion, and had taken up to calling him by first name. As the months went on, though, his visions started to shift way away from reality, and he started feeling the small sting of pain when his other self got injured. Those pains and darker visions started to wake him up more, not allowing him to get a good nights rest.

Chris plopped down onto his bed and adjusted his body until he was in a comfortable position. The pains in his dreams had lately changed from small stings to completely excruciating. He was starting to get worried. He didn't know what was going to happen next and he didn't know why he was even seeing these things. Maybe the Elder's were messing with him or something, he had never trusted those damn fools anyway. They always seemed to _like _to cause pain for him and his family.

This is why he hated being a witch. He would be able to deal with these hallucinations or whatever if he could label it with the obvious, normal explanation of crazy, but being a witch tended to always rule that out. Some annoying, magical thing was behind this, screwing with him just for the purpose of causing him pain.

And that was another reason why he hated magic: it always liked to find ways to screw with you and drive you mad.

Chris slowly started to drift off; the warm, comforting feel of his bed grabbing him into unconsciousness. His mind quickly pushed thoughts of magic aside, and within seconds, he was fast asleep.

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Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!

I'll try to get the next chapter up soon, and I'll continue on writing it as much as I can. I'm trying to spilt my time writing both this story and the sequel to_ At Death, A Proclamation_.

In the meantime though, please keep up with the reviews! I appreciate them all so much, and I love to hear that so many people like the story!

Thanks again for reading and hopefully reviewing!

:)


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas!**

Thank you all so much for the reviews for the last chapter, and I promise you more Chris and Wyatt interactions will be coming soon. I have a lot of visions centered around Wyatt planned.

The cousins are starting to be introduced in this chapter, so here's a quick list of who's who and what powers they all have:

**Paige and Henry:**

**Henry Jr.:** 8 _Powers:_ Orbing. **Patricia: **6 _Powers: _Orbing. **Penelope: **10 _P__owers: _Orbing and Glamouring_._

**Phoebe and Coop:**

**Prudence: **13 _Powers: _Premonitions, limited Telepathy with twin_. _**Peyton: **13 _Powers: _Telepathy

**Piper and Leo:**

**Chris: **16 _Powers: _Telekinesis, Telekinetic Orbing, Orbing, Premonitions, and Bond with Wyatt. **Wyatt: **18 _Powers: _Orbing, Healing, Energy Balls, Molecular Combustion, Telekinesis, and Bond with Chris.

I plan to have Chris gain a power in this story, Wyatt has so many and Chris deserves another! :)

Enjoy the chapter!

_

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The city looked much worse from high up above than below. The destruction and dark clouds of smoke that rose from the buildings could be seen scattered about the gray city for miles. The damage that his brother had done could be seen at full scale from this height, and it was horrific. He had orbed up to the top of the bridge to escape all of the destruction, but apparently he couldn't do that. Everywhere he turned, all he saw was death and debris. _

_All of this was his brother's doing. He had turned San Francisco into a replica of what Chris imagined hell to look like. Fires burning, smoke rising, ash flying. The sky was filled with gray ash, and the air was polluted and sickening. He wished he could have stopped this, he wanted nothing more than to fix all of this destruction and decay and make everything the way it used to be. Wyatt had torn apart the city with his hordes of demons and witches that had joined his side. He had destroyed the only place Chris knew as home._

_Chris subconsciously started to rub at his scared wrists, fingers tracing over the reddened skin. Less than forty-eight hours ago, he had still been hanging in a cell, being thrown about by Wyatt's telekinesis and feeling the harsh, painful burn of energy balls singeing his skin. He had finally managed to escape from Wyatt's dungeons using the last bit of strength he had to orb out of the magically bound chains that held him. It had taken a lot of strength of on his part and most normal witches and whitelighters would never be able to break a barrier that strong, but due to being a Twice-Blessed child, he was able to accomplish it. _

_Now he sat on the Golden Gate Bridge, his favorite place to escape from Wyatt and the destruction down below. Wyatt was deathly afraid of heights, so even if his brother could somehow sense him, he knew the elder Halliwell would never come up. He always found that humorous; Lord Wyatt, the Source of All Evil, the sadistic, "Show no mercy," Twice-Blessed was afraid of _heights_. It was unlikely Wyatt would be trying to find him at the moment; there was a huge battle being fought out by him and his demons against a number of Resistance fighters. Due to the connection between he and his brother, he could feel the aggression and anger radiating through him. He wished he could break off the bond between them, it would make hiding a hell of a lot easier, and he would have to block his brother from sensing him less, but nothing he had tried would work. Their blood tied them together permanently, and there was no way for him to fix that._

_The tingle of orbs caught his attention, but he kept his eyes on the burnt and ashy scenery below. He knew who it was, he could sense Leo just the same as he could sense his brother. They all shared that bond, and he wished he could rid of his ties with Leo even more than Wyatt._

"_Chris," his father started, gaining no look of acknowledgement from his son._

"_I told you not to contact me," Chris' voice came out cold and stern. It was the type of tone that was only saved for his father and for those few times with Wyatt. He let his eyes wander over to his old man, sending a cold, hateful glare his way._

"_I'm your father, Christopher," Leo started, trying to take back some authority over at least one of his sons, "I have a right to see you."_

"_No, you don't," Chris kept his glare hard and strong, "being a father would have meant actually _beingthere_ for me, especially when I'm calling out to you," his voice was rising with anger, and he couldn't keep himself calm in front of his father any longer, "You let her die. I _called_ you, over and over, but you didn't come!" _

"_Christopher--"_

"_It's Chris!" The sixteen year old cut his father off harshly, hands clenched in fists, "Dammit, Leo!" He was so angry with his father. He broke off contact with him but now his father felt the need to actually be there for him. The whole situation was almost laughable. Chris felt the need to fling out his arms and throw Leo's Elder ass off the bridge. It sounded harsh, but it wasn't like the man could really _die_ or anything. He was already dead to begin with, and he couldn't die twice ... well, he could die again, but not from any long fall, "Just butt out of my life already! I don't need you. I survived sixteen years without you being around, and I don't need you now!"_

Chris' eyes shot open, mind still filled with the anger and hatred his other self felt for Leo ... his father. From what he had seen in his visions, the other him hated his father for a crap load of reasons. He had once witnessed a vision of a six-year-old version of the other him crying over how his father had missed _another _one of his birthday's. His mother had comforted him, of course, stroking a gentle hand up and down his back. Though the other him seemed to somewhat resent Leo for those incidents, it was the one that involved the mysterious "_she"_ that really forced him to hold his grudge. The other him had referred to this "_she"_ many times, but Chris had no clue who she was. It had happened before he was sixteen, though, he knew that. The problem with his visions was that they didn't appear in any order. They were sporadic and random, sometimes following a sequence, and other times going from when he was sixteen to five.

He could hear the patter of footsteps drumming from all over the lower floor; his younger cousins running around, laughing and giggling while the adults talked and drank wine in the kitchen. It was the same routine every Friday; a "_Halliwell tradition,"_ as his mother put it. He had managed to skip the last few, going out with Landon and Zooey instead, though he had ended up getting in trouble for it later. His mother didn't like the fact that he seemed to always chose his friends over his family, but when your family was one of the most well known and powerful Wiccan families ever to exist, you tended to chose your friends over them when you were bent on getting away from magic. Though Zooey was a witch as well (and quite fond of it) she still knew how to be somewhat normal. She was more comforting to be around, she got him, unlike his family. Though she still couldn't fully understand why he hated being a witch so much, she accepted it and tried to not question it (though she ended up doing quite a lot, not on purpose, of course). His family didn't understand his whole "get away from magic" fetish and his father and mother always tried to push him more into the family, more into magic.

He was hoping, for his sake, there would be a big lack of magic at this family dinner. He would like if--for just once--the family could _actually_ act like a normal family and not use their powers to play tag around the house.

Orbs suddenly materialized in front of Chris' door, causing the boy to sit up from his place in bed, watching with a raised eyebrow as his young cousin, Henry Jr., appeared.

The eight-year-old turned to face him, wearing an excited grin.

"We're playing hide-and-seek," he explained, excitedly, "Penelope, Peyton, Prudence, and I."

Chris let out a sigh and let his legs dangle off the side of the bed. He ran a hand through his messy hair. "You four can't play the normal way?"

Henry Jr. looked at him with this almost shocked expression, like Chris was crazy for even asking, "Why would we do that?" he asked, his brown eyes wandering over to the door as he heard the patter of light footsteps up the stairs. He turned the Chris, looking almost panicked. The door slammed open, and Peyton appeared, wearing a wide grin.

"How'd you find me?!" Henry Jr. asked, staring at Peyton's devilish grin. She simply pointed to her head and Henry's expression turned to one of anger, "That's not fair!" he concluded, crossing his arms and pouting, "You can't use your telepathy to find me! That's cheating!"

"And that's why you should play the _normal_ way," Chris cut in, causing his two cousins to look over at him, wearing matching bemused expressions.

Peyton raised an eyebrow at him, her brown curls bouncing as she turned to look at Henry Jr., motioning for the eight-year-old to leave. He went to whine, but Peyton stopped him with a look, and the boy quickly orbed away. The girl made her way over to her older cousin and plopped down next to him.

"So, what's with these weird thoughts about Uncle Leo?" she asked with curiosity, meeting her cousins gaze. She had picked up on them while searching the house for Henry Jr.'s thoughts.

"Stay out of my mind, Peyton!" he exclaimed with anger, quickly looking off towards the window, feeling as though if he wasn't looking at her she wouldn't be able to get a clear reading off him.

"Sor-_ry_," she crossed her arms and looked towards a poster on Chris' wall, "I just caught onto it while I was searching for Henry Jr." she kicked her legs back and forth, heels patting against the bed in a steady motion, "... Are you going to answer my question?"

Chris met her gaze, arms crossed, "No, you nosy little telepath. Now, stay out of my head," Chris stood up and brushed the wrinkles out of his jeans, before pointing her way, "I'm serious, Peyton. What's going on in _my_ mind is none of _your_ business."

She let out in irritated sigh and crossed her arms, jumping to her feet, "Fine," she stalked off towards the door, turning once she reached the frame to say one more thing, "by the way, your breath _reeks_ of whiskey, go use some mouthwash or something." The young girl turned on her heels and stalked down the stairs, feet pounding lightly against the steps.

Chris brought a hand up and checked his breath, cursing when he picked up the strong smell of the cheap whiskey he'd been taking swigs of earlier. Thankfully his cousin pointed that out or he would have be screwed. His father had a talent for picking up on those scents, and he definitely didn't need to add to the drama of the Friday family dinners any more than needed. He quickly slid out of his room and entered the bathroom, swishing around a large amount of mouthwash ins his mouth until it stung his cheeks to make sure the scent of his illegal habits was not noticeable.

Once downstairs, he heard the small chatter and laughter of his parents and aunts and uncles chatting in the kitchen, and the loud laughter of his cousins zooming past him as they ran around the house. Through all the noise though, he could hear the faint, old sound of a piano. A C, then G, then finally an F sharp. The notes were all familiar to him, and their sounds hand been memorized years ago, but it had been months since he heard anything played live on the piano.

Chris made his way into the sun room; where the piano had been first placed for him years ago. His small cousin, Patricia, was playing the notes, her small, stubby fingers pressing down against each key, waiting to hear what sounds the wondrous white rectangle would produce. Her feet barely touched the ground, and she could hardly reach the peddle she was trying to press. Once she stretched her leg out and managed to press down the peddle, she hit a black key, producing the chord A sharp.

Chris' lips curled into a smile. It had been a while since he had heard the sounds of those notes moving their way throughout the sunroom, and his fingers tingled with the sensation to play. They were urging him to brush them against the piano keys, to pound out beautiful notes that would be as sweet to the ears as candy was to the taste-buds.

He moved towards the piano, sliding down next to his young cousin on the bench. He grabbed her small hand and moved it over to a set of keys, spacing two fingers out between the keys and pressing them down. Patricia turned to him, her big brown eyes wide and excited at the note that had come out, a combination of keys she had not thought of, and sent a gaped smile his way.

"Cwris!" she exclaimed, her loss of her two front teeth--and the holes where they had been-- caused her to slur his name a little, "Show me another!"

He gave her a small smile and moved her fingers again, sliding them down the key board and setting them up for another note. He pressed down on the peddle and gently pressed her hand down against the keys, creating another note. Her smile grew brighter and she looked up to Chris, eyes wide and excited. He turned his gaze away from her, his smile still somewhat intact, trying to hide a thought that had popped up into his mind. She looked just like her mother, Aunt Paige, and for the other him, Aunt Paige was dead. She had been killed by a demon attack on the family shortly after Wyatt's takeover as the Source. He had watched his own aunt be torn apart and thrown across the floor to die in a pool of cold, crimson blood. The visions that involved death were some of the scariest for him. His other self would try so hard to save the ones he loved--_they_ loved--but all of his tries never worked. His brother had _always_ been stronger, and he always would stay that way.

"Will you play a song, Cwris?" Patricia's question took him by surprise, his eyes widening.

He was hesitant for a moment, his hands sliding down onto the keys as his cousin took her hand off of the piano, eyes staring up at him with anticipation. He adjusted the placement of his fingers, remembering the notes to an old song that he had learned to play. It wasn't Mozart or anything, though he did remember a few songs from him--he didn't think his cousin would want to hear him anyway--but it still was a good piece none the less. He pressed down against the keys, producing the first note. It felt so good to him, and the feeling of that sound vibrating through his body brought a smile to his face. He remembered all of his old recitals, he remembered playing songs for Zooey, he remembered how much he really loved to play. His hands glided against the keys, producing chords fast and quick, each placement of the fingers and pound against the keys flowing out of his mind with ease. His cousin wore a big smile as she watched his fingers slide to different keys, playing the song that he had memorized.

Leo had slid into the room without the two Halliwell's noticing and watched his son with a smile as he played the up beat song. The sound of a piano ringing through the house had been a long forgotten thing, and hearing the lovely chords flow through the house now brought Leo a feeling of content. "Human Hands by Sondre Lerche and the Faces Down Quartet," he spoke from behind the two, recognizing the artist and the song, "not exactly classical, but beautiful none the less."

Chris tilted his head to look back towards his father, hands playing the notes without even missing a beat. He looked back at the piano and continued to play. His father had brought a damper on his mood for some reason, thoughts of his latest vision popping back into his head. He played with less enthusiasm now, but continued on. Leo to the other him was this terrible person, and from what Chris had seen from the visions, his father was definitely not the best father. He cared more about Wyatt than he did him, and, of course, that hurt him. He and the other Chris seemed to both share an inferiority complex with Wyatt, and Leo's favoritism didn't help any. There were times when Chris felt like his father did favor Wyatt, though his father was there for both of them. Wyatt was first born, he was all powerful, and he wasn't out there trying to escape the family as much as Chris was. Wyatt enjoyed his Wiccan heritage and his power, and his father was very into the Wiccan world. He _had _been a Whitelighter for decades. He spent years with his afterlife centered around the whole Wiccan world, and he knew all there was to know about it.

"I never understood why you gave it up," his father continued, a smile still gracing his lips as he listened to the piano, "You're great at it. You really have a lot of talent."

Chris' blood was beginning to boil, but he kept on playing. His father was really ticking him off. He knew he was good at piano, he'd been playing for years, but his father had to keep pushing it. Leo had been rather upset when he just up and quit, and his father tended to always bring it up. He didn't like that Chris had just given up on it, he didn't like when either of his son's quit anything. Wyatt, of course, was into sports, especially football, and Leo was very enthusiastic over it. Wyatt was devoted and wouldn't quit. The older Halliwell seemed to always be more pleasing to Leo--for both the other him and he himself. Leo would always ask him why he didn't start playing again, hinting towards the whole idea that he didn't like a quitter, and Chris would always respond with a shrug. This time, though, he wasn't as calm as he usually was. After seeing that vision, he couldn't seem to keep his cool in front of his father. It was like all of the emotions the other him had felt towards the man were starting to surface in him.

"You really--" Chris banged on the piano, cutting off Leo with a pound of random keys.

"Shut up, Leo!" he screamed, standing up from the bench and turning to face his father, "Just deal with it! I gave it up, and I won't be starting up again any time soon! Go swoon over Wyatt and his football or something like you always do and leave me the hell alone!"

The boy stormed out of the room, anger taking over as he strode straight towards the door and slammed it open, letting it hit the wall with a bang.

"Chris!" Leo called after him, speeding his way to the door and down the stairs, "Chris, get back here!"

His calls were ignored though, and his son quickly made his way down the street and out of sight. Leo let out a sigh and sat down on the stairs, running a hand through his short blond hair. He didn't understand why Chris hand snapped like that, and the one thing that kept repeating through his mind was what his son had called him. _Leo. _Not dad, not father, but _Leo. _He hadn't heard his son call him that since many years ago, when Chris had come to the past with a goal to save Wyatt and a bitter hate towards him. Lately, his own son was starting to remind him of that Chris--the neurotic, secretive, twenty-two year old who had come into his life those years ago. His son was keeping many secrets, he could tell that just by looking at him, and his son always seemed so tense now. The boy rarely gave anyone in the family a smile anymore. For all he knew, Chris hated the entire family. He didn't like being a witch, and he desperately tried to keep away from anything related to it, other than his friend Zooey.

"What was that all about?" Leo turned to look up towards Phoebe, who was making her way down the steps to sit down next to her brother-and-law.

Leo watched as she sat, "I don't know," he told her with a sigh, "he just went off at me."

"He's been pretty moody lately," she reminded him with a comforting smile, "that's what tends to happen during the teenage years."

Leo gave her a small smile, but couldn't muster up anything more, "He called me Leo," he told her after a moment of silence, "I haven't heard that come out of his mouth since--"

"The neurotic twenty-two-year-old version of him was here," she nodded her head and kept on her smile, "it is odd," she spoke up, smile slightly dying down after a moment of thought, "he's never called you Leo before now, has he?"

"No," Leo shook his head and looked off towards where his son had ran off. What was going on with him lately? These past months had been filled with rebellion and anger on the boy's part. His hate for the whole magical community seemed to have grown tenfold and he couldn't stand to be around the family anymore. Leo was very concerned at this point, and so was Piper. She was worrying nonstop about their youngest son lately. When he'd wander off without a word and come back late at night, she'd be sitting up all night worried something terrible had happened to him. He caused a lot of stress on both him and Piper.

"Don't worry," she told her brother-in-law, wearing a comforting and assuring grin, "he'll come back; he always does. He just needs time to cool off."

Leo gave one last look towards where Chris had vanished, before letting out a sigh and nodding.

"Come on," she stood up and waited for Leo to do the same, "let's go eat."

After a moment of hesitation, Leo stood up and followed her inside. They both were worried about Chris--hell, the whole family was--but there was nothing that could be done now. If they went after Chris, the boy would just try to push them farther away. The best thing for them to do was let the boy cool down and return, then they could talk with him. She knew that Leo and Piper had been planning to anyway since that morning's demon attack. Her nephew sure did know how to stress out the whole family--just like she had during her teenage years. Though Chris wasn't dressed in chains and all black--instead just plain t-shirts or plaids--and wasn't getting into terrible trouble at school, the boy had his share of similar troubles as to hers. She worried about him--they all worried about him--but there was really nothing they could do. Hopefully this would be some passing phase and Chris would turn back to the normal teenage boy he had been months ago.

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Thank you all so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

I hope to get a ton of reviews for this fast update, haha :)

While writing this chapter, I was listening to Sondre Lerche's jazz album, and Human Hands has great piano so I just chose the song for him to play. It's a great cover of the Elvis Costello song :)

Next Chapter: Chris, Leo, and Piper have a talk, as well as a vision with Wyatt and an actual scene between the two.

I'll try to get it up as soon as I can. Until then, please please _please _review!

I love to hear what you think and get opiions on my writing and the story itself!

:)


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas!**

Thank you all so much for reviewing the last chapter; I really appreciate it and I hope you all keep it up! The more reviews, the faster the update: good reviews always tend to encourage me to write more. :)

Well, here's chapter four. Enjoy!

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The rain had started after an hour of his wanderings and now Chris was cold and soaked. The cold rain had stung against his skin, and the chilly wind blew harder. He didn't care though, he didn't mind that feeling too much. He had felt worse almost everyday thanks to those visions. He sat against the brick wall in the park, staring at an empty playground. The bridge was protecting him from the cold rain, keeping him from getting any more soaked than he was, as well as allowing him to smoke a cigarette. The end burned a bright orange as he inhaled, one of the only lights in the dark of the park. A bottle sat by his side, filled with a cheap brand of whiskey he had gotten from Landon. He payed his best friend a visit at one of the many parties he would be attending that night. His friend gave him the usual drunken, happy greeting and gave him a half a bottle of whiskey for the road. Chris hadn't drank that much of it though. He would have to go home at sometime, and he didn't want to come in smashed to only find his parents waiting for him in the parlor. He had a feeling at least one of them--if not both--were waiting up for him to give him a good talking to.

He still couldn't believed he had yelled at Leo like that--he meant his father, not Leo, his _father_. God, these visions were starting to really affect him. His emotions towards Leo and his other self's seemed to mold together in that moment and he just let it out. His other self had mostly taken over earlier, the vision he had had about Leo still lingering in the back of his mind. His father had seemed so hurt when he called him by name--he could see them man almost flinch back as if the words stung him. Chris had felt bad about that, but he had just been _so_ angry. This was why he couldn't be around his family too much, he didn't know what he would do anymore. These visions were affecting his real life much more than before, and he even had been trying to keep his space from Wyatt--the one person he used to be closest to. He was afraid something would happen if he was around them too long that would give up what was going on with him. The farther he was, the safer his secret was, he supposed. He was trying to get as far away from the magical community as possible. All magic ever did for him was cause him pain. He didn't need that, and he was not going to just sit there and be an open target by being around one of the most powerful Wiccan families ever to exist. He wouldn't stray completely away from his family--he knew that would kill his mother more than anyone, and he didn't want to hurt her like that--but he would stay away most of the time. It was his only option, he believed.

The rain had lightened up, and Chris was starting to shiver a bit. He decided to get himself home, and maybe completely avoid the whole conversation his parents were dying to have by orbing upstairs. With one last swig of whiskey, Chris threw the bottle to the ground and dematerialized in a swirl of white and blue orbs, ending up in the foyer of the manor. Chris cursed when he noticed the light that was still on in the parlor, and was very annoyed that in his tipsy state he couldn't seem to get himself to orb to the right room.

"Chris," his mother's stern and angry voice caused Chris to look up her way, the woman peering out of the parlor, her brown hair up in a ponytail. She didn't look too pleased with him, and Chris had been fearing his return home for that reason. An angry Piper was a force to be reckoned with and he tried to avoid her rage whenever possible. Maybe he'd just get away with a slap on the wrist and no supper. Well, he hoped, but his mother was one for cruel punishment and fits of yelling.

He gave his mother a small smile, trying to somewhat calm down her nerves. He barely smiled anymore in front of the family, so forcing one out for her should help his cause he supposed. "Hey, mom," he greeted with a small wave. She took one look at his soaked hair and wet clothes and her motherly instincts quickly kicked in, "Chris, honey," she made her way over to him quickly, hand brushing against his drenched hair, "You couldn't have come home before it started raining like this?"

Leo had emerged from the parlor and watched as his wife fussed over their youngest son, ordering him to go get himself changed before he caught a cold. The boy nodded and obeyed, running upstairs to change into a pair of warm clothes before coming back down, towel in hand, as his parents requested. His mother looked much more relaxed and less tense after his return, and her anger seemed to vanish somewhat. Maybe his slap on the wrist was going to happen for once. Maybe he wouldn't have to spend the week cleaning the entire house or reorganizing the potion ingredients as punishment for missing curfew and skipping yet another family dinner.

His mother ushered him into the kitchen and placed him down in front of a plate of food, "I heated up some dinner for you." She told him with a small smile as she sat down next to him, "You didn't have breakfast today, and I wasn't going to let you skip another meal."

Chris picked up his fork as he mumbled a soft, "Thanks," before stabbing at the food.

Leo stood above his wife, hands resting on her shoulders, watching as his son ate his spaghetti. Piper laid a hand on Leo's and looked up at her husband with a soft smile, trying to assure him that what had happened earlier wasn't as big of a deal anymore. Chris seemed rather content, and he didn't seem to want to yell at him anymore.

"Chris," Piper started, causing the boy to look up from his plate, his jade, tried eyes meeting his mother's soft brown ones, "you and your father and I need to talk."

The boy dropped his fork onto the plate and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, "I saw this coming," he told the two, looking over towards the clock, "but could we possibly do this in the morning? I'm tired."

Piper was almost ready to give into Chris' offer, but Leo had started up with an answer before she could speak, "No, Chris, we've got to do this now," Chris looked up towards his father, giving the man an angry glare. It reminded Leo so much of the Chris that had come back to the past all of those years ago, and it hurt him to see that he would still be getting looks like that from his son even though he had worked so hard to become a better father.

"Fine," Chris sighed with annoyance, "what would you like to talk about? Magic related issues or non-magic related ones?"

Piper looked up at Leo for moment, before turning her gaze back on her son and starting up, "The demon attack this morning--"

"I don't want to talk about that," Chris cut her off harshly, sitting up straight in his seat, "Chose another topic or I'm leaving."

"Christopher," Piper said his name with such authority and sternness that the boy quickly rested his back against the chair and slid down in his seat. When his mother took on a tone like that you knew it was better to just answer her questions. He didn't want to get her as angry as she had been when he walked in again. He didn't need to be blown up or forced to sort through the attic and clean until it was spotless. All he needed was to keep himself cooperative and keep his mother calm for the whole rest of their conversation. No snapping, no talking back, none of it. He'd have to just sit and be a polite little boy as she and his father lectured him.

"I just knew, alright," Chris looked up towards his parents, answering the question he knew Piper had been trying to get out.

"Did you have a premonition?" Leo asked, taking a seat next to his wife. He had gone through all of the books that seemed useful in Magic School and found nothing that would help him figure out how Chris had known it would work. The only logical explanation he could think of was a premonition.

"Do you think I would have let myself get hit by that dagger in the first place if I had had one?" Chris asked with a roll of his eyes at the stupidity of his father's questions, "I just knew, can't you accept that?" His eyes travelled back to the plate of food that sat in front of him and he quickly began picking at the noodles again, fork held limply in his hands as he poked at the spaghetti.

Piper and Leo exchanged looks of worry before turning back to their son, deciding to change the subject to something that seemed more pressing to them. They knew they weren't going to get anymore out of him about the demon attack, and they wanted to keep Chris calm. If Chris got upset he would be out of there again in a snap of a finger, disappearing in a swirl of blue and white orbs to God knows where.

"Chris, Peanut," Piper started, the boy looking up at her from his plate. He was met with a warm and gentle look from his mother, one that showed concern and care. He didn't need to see that look, he had a soft spot for his mother when it came to her and that look. It reminded him of when he was younger and he barely saw it anymore. Whenever he did though, he felt like a child again, "What has been going on with you lately? It's just--your not the same Chris as you were months ago."

Chris kept his eyes on his food, swirling the noodles around on the plate, "I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, eyes never leaving the plate, "I'm the same Chris that I've always been," he suddenly stopped moving his noodles around and looked up towards his mother, "You think something's wrong with me?" he asked, sending a look his mother's way, then turning it to his father, "Do you, Leo?"

Chris saw the hurt look in his father's eyes and suddenly realized his slip. He hadn't meant to call him Leo, it just came out. He quickly looked down at his plate before dropping his fork down onto the table with a clank and pushing his chair back, "You know, you're right to think that," he told the two as he stood up, both going a bit wide eyed, "There is something wrong with me. I'm definitely not alright. Know why?" a pause, "Cause I can throw people half way across the room with my mind, I see visions of the future, and I can orb! None of that is what _anyone_ would consider normal!"

Chris turned on his heels and stormed out of the room, his feet pounding hard against the stairs as he made his way to the second floor.

"Chris!" Piper called, standing up from her set and calling after him in anger, "Christopher Perry Halliwell, get your ass back down here this instant! We are not done with this, we're not done!" Piper didn't know what else to do but yell. She felt like she was losing her son. Something was taking him farther and farther away from her, and it hurt her more than anything in the world. She didn't know what else to do but get angry with him. Chris listened to her when she was angry, he sat quiet most of the time and let her get out what she needed. He'd been snapping back at her more though. He had inherited his temper from her, and when they both were upset, the two could really go at it. Chris had surprisingly kept himself partially quiet that night, but she just supposed it was because he was tired.

She heard Chris' door slam with a loud bang and turned to look towards her husband, who had followed her into the foyer. Once she had calmed, her eyes began to tear up and she declared, "He hates me, Leo." She was no longer able to hold back the tears that had built up. Leo quickly wrapped his arms protectively around his wife, holding her gently and sweetly.

"Shh," he shushed her, running hand through her hair, "He doesn't hate you, honey," he assured his wife as she let out sobs, "he's just going through a rough patch right now."

"You heard him," she choked out, "he hates being a witch. He inherited that from me," Piper continued crying and Leo kept his arms wrapped around her, stroking her hair affectionately. His eyes travelled up towards the ceiling, troubled by the thoughts of what Chris had told them. Why did his son hate magic so much? He didn't understand. He used to have at least a content feeling about it, but now it was full on hate. It hurt his mother to hear him say things like he had. Though Piper had never been the biggest fan of being witch--she used to wish for a normal life plenty of times--when she heard her son go on about how much he despised it, she took it to heart. She felt like he was saying he hated the family for being who they were. She was a witch and therefore he was a witch. She had had a forbidden love with Leo and therefore her two son's were faced with many problems because of it.

Piper had yet to calm down, and Leo had a feeling that she would not be any time soon. He would hold her as long as she needed to be held. As long as she felt the need to cry, he would be there to comfort her.

* * *

"_Christopher, come out come out where ever you are!" Lord Wyatt called in a teasing tone, wearing an amused smirk. When he heard no move and saw no brown haired teenager step out from behind the rubble and demolished buildings around the street, he spoke again, smirk still beaming, "There's no point in hiding, little brother, I will find you, I always find you."_

_Chris' breathing was heavy and fast, but he tried to keep it as quiet as he could. He heard the sound of boots smacking against concrete at a steady pace, each step as heavy and authoritative as the next. His back was stiff against a brick wall of a destroyed building, listening carefully to his brother's calls and steps. He needed to find a way to escape, but he was too weak to orb. His body wanted to do nothing more then collapse into the dark thick black of a dreamless sleep and escape the tormenter that his brother had become._

"_Oh, little Christopher!" Wyatt called out in a mocking voice, "Come out to play!"_

_A few more minutes filled with the heavy flop of boot against concrete and taunting calls before a sudden quiet fell over the building. He could not hear anymore footsteps striding around the destroyed house, no more mocking calls coming from his brother, nothing. The silence was almost frightening to Chris, but at the same time, he felt some sort of relief fall over him. Maybe Wyatt had gone to look somewhere else, maybe he had finally escaped from Wyatt's sick game of hide and seek. _

"_Found you, Chris," a hand suddenly fell onto his shoulder, it's grip tight and forceful._

Chris shot up in bed and let out a harsh gasp, his eyes wide. He slid towards the top of his bed, staring at his brother with a frightened expression. The older Halliwell quickly removed his hand from the boy's shoulder and held both of them up, "Sorry," he apologized, eyes as wide as his brother's, "I didn't mean to scare you, I didn't think you were that asleep."

Chris' breathing was starting to regain its normal pace, and the boy calmed himself down somewhat. He stared at his brother, forcing himself to take in every little detail to remind him and assure him that this Wyatt as not the Wyatt from his visions. This Wyatt was his older brother; his somewhat annoying and somewhat full of himself, good, not evil, brother Wyatt.

Wyatt raised an eyebrow at his brother and crossed his arms, "Will you quit staring at me like that; it's really freaking me out."

Chris quickly looked away, his eyes falling onto the comforter on his bed, "Is there a reason why you woke me up, or do you just love to annoy the hell out of me?" he asked, adjusting himself on the bed and sitting up, legs crisscrossed.

"Yeah," Wyatt sat down on the bed near Chris, watching as his brother ran a had through his hair, a gesture his brother always seemed to resort to when nervous, "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"And it couldn't wait?" Chris asked, looking over at his brother as he rubbed at his eyes.

"I've been waiting to ask you all day, but I never see you in school and you're never home anymore," Wyatt watched as his brother let his hands fall to his lap and let out yawn.

"Well, then, ask fast because I'm losing precious sleeping time because of you."

"How did you know I would heal you this morning?" Wyatt asked, staring at his brother with full interest and curiosity.

Chris let out a sigh and rolled his eyes before laying back down and letting his head meet the pillow. He grabbed his sheets up over his exposed arms and turned on his side, eyes shutting as he got comfortable, "Go to bed, Wyatt."

"Chris, I'm not leaving until you give me an answer," Wyatt insisted firmly, standing his ground. When the younger Halliwell didn't respond, Wyatt stood up from his seat and grabbed handfuls of the comforter. He tugged and pulled the sheet halfway off his brother before the boy sat back up and grabbed them, "Stop it, Wy!" Chris yelled, keeping his tone somewhat hushed to make sure he didn't wake up his parents. His brother kept pulling, and the two boys started up a tug-of-war over the comforter, Chris pulling as hard as he could to get the sheets back. With one powerful tug, Wyatt dragged his brother off the bed completely, comforter and sheets coming down with him.

Wyatt wore a smirk and laughed, watching as Chris untangled himself from the sheets that had wrapped around his legs, "I've always been stronger than you," he pointed out with a lighthearted laugh.

Chris had freed himself by then, and suddenly stilled himself at his brother's comment, trying to hide his shock. The similarity of that sentence to the one Lord Wyatt had said in his vision earlier frightened him. He could remember the exact feeling the other him had had when the blade slid into his shoulder, the poison mixing with his blood and burning his veins as it travelled through his body. Wyatt had done that to him--no, not Wyatt, _Lord _Wyatt. The Wyatt in his visions was not the Wyatt that sat beside him on the floor, wearing that stupid, accomplished grin.

"Are you going to tell me now?" Wyatt asked, looking over towards his brother who was now sitting with his back against the bed, legs stretched out.

Chris let out a sigh and shut his eyes, tilting his head upward and rubbing at his temple. He wanted to tell someone, he really did, and when he was little he used to go to Wyatt for everything, but he just couldn't let the words escape his mouth. He couldn't let Wyatt know what he had saw, he couldn't let Wyatt know what he was in these visions. His older brother pictured himself as the poster boy for all good, and he couldn't tear his brother's image of himself apart like that, even if it was a little bit of a conceding one. He knew what he had to do if he wanted Wyatt to stop bugging him and let him get some shut eye, so the boy heaved another sigh and opened his eyes to look over towards his brother, "I read it in a book at Magic School," he told the older Halliwell, "it was a book on poisons and demon covens. I remembered the way the book described the burning sensation you would feel and remembered reading about how it was a weaker poison than most. It could be healed by an Elder, and since you're half-witch half-whitelighter I assumed you were as powerful, if not more."

Wyatt let the answer sink in for a moment, before nodding in approval, "Makes sense," he spoke his thoughts allowed, more to himself than to Chris, "you and I both are probably more powerful than the Elders."

"There's your answer," Chris said as he stood up and grabbed the sheets and comforter from off the ground and threw them back onto his bed, "now can I get some sleep, or do you have more questions?"

Wyatt stood up from his spot and stared at his brother for moment, his arms crossed and expression showing one of annoyance, "One more thing," he started, receiving a roll of the eyes from his brother, "everything's alright with you, right? I mean, other than this whole James Dean thing you seem to have going, everything is fine?"

"Yes," Chris seemed a bit irked by the James Dean jibe as he pushed his brother towards the door. When the older Halliwell was out of his room and standing in front of him near the door, he added, "Now, go to bed, and don't wake me up this late again."

The door shut in Wyatt's face and he heard the creak of a mattress as his brother collapsed back into bed. He was worried about Chris, and didn't believe that everything was fine. There was something behind his rebellion; it had been just so out of the blue. Sure, maybe he was thinking a little too into this, and maybe it was just your average, normal teenager rebellion, but nothing was average when it involved a Halliwell. There was no normal when magic was involved.

* * *

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Next Chapter: Another visions with Wyatt (a very long vision, at that)

Until then, please review! I appreciate them all so much and they get me to write and edit these chapters faster! :)

Thanks again for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas!**

Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter, I really appreciate it!

I hope you guys keep it up, and I'll try to keep up with writing this story. :)

_

* * *

Wyatt tugged at his cousin's hair, pulling her back towards him as she tried to run off. He kept a stern and authoritative look as he tugged her back, never missing a beat as he walked in perfect stride. The young girl let out a scream at each tug and fought her hardest to break free. Wyatt kept a firm grip, pulling her around old wheelchairs and tables. The hallway was nearly dark, the only light in the small corridor being a flickering florescent overhead light that flashed on and off in an unusual pattern._

"_I'll kill her, Christopher, I swear I will!" he called out into the empty old building. His brother had taken up refugee in an old hospital, and once he had gotten a read on his brother's whereabouts thanks to the weakened boy's accidental slip, he quickly went on with his fool proof plan to get his brother. He knew threatening the life of a family member would quickly get Chris to give up. The boy had a weak spot when it came to that. Their whole family was being killed of left and right by he and his minions; he knew that the Halliwell line was only going to get in his way, and he couldn't have them meddling with his plans. The only ones that had been spared were Peyton and, of course, his dear brother. Peyton had joined him rather willingly, and her telepathy came in real handy for interrogations. _

"_Give yourself up to me, Christopher, it's the only way!" he shook Patricia violently, causing the girl to let out a terrified sob, screaming for Chris to come save her. Wyatt pushed an old gurney aside and dragged the resistant girl forward, looking and waiting for Chris to come out from hiding._

"_Promise me, Wyatt," The Dark Lord turned to find his brother standing a few feet away, covered in cuts and bruises, looking worn and tired, as if he was a walking corpse. He still tried to make himself look strong, he couldn't let himself look any weaker than he already had during their torture sessions. He could barely stand as it was, and he had been calling for Leo for days, but his father had never come. He had hid in that hospital, cooped up inside its brick walls waiting for the help that never came; the father that was never there for him, "Promise me that if I come with you, you won't kill her."_

"_She'll be free to go," he told his brother, shaking the girl a little before loosening his grip, "as long as you come with me without a fight, she will go on living." A beat, "It's not like she has any good powers or anything. She's too young to have developed anything worth while yet." Patricia looked up towards Chris, the two Halliwell's making eye contact for the first time. He'd never seen the girl so frightened before, and her usually bright, big eyes were dull and small. Patricia had never seen her cousin so weak. He could barely stand up, and she knew Wyatt had planned for his brother to be that weak when the time came. You could never be too sure with Chris, the boy was quite resourceful, and Wyatt had to be sure that his younger brother would not grab her and escape. In the condition Chris was in, he wouldn't be going anywhere without the help of his dear older brother. _

_Chris took a weak step forward, limping slightly as he took the next, "It'll be okay Patricia," he tried to assure the girl, mustering up the best comforting smile he could, "everything will be okay." The girl was still crying as Wyatt kept his firm hold on her hair, waiting until Chris made his way close enough to him that Wyatt knew he had him. _

_Once Chris was in reach, he quickly grabbed his younger brother and wrapped an arm around him. He dropped Patricia with a thud to the ground and the girl quickly stumbled up, tears still running down her face, "You made the right choice, little brother," Wyatt told him as he held him tight, risking no escape._

_Patricia turned to stare at the pair of brothers for a moment, eyes screaming fear of the tall blonde boy that held her cousin so tightly to him. She could see how Wyatt's fingers dug into Chris' skin, but the boy showed no sign that he was in pain. He just stared right at her, his weak head motioning for her to go._

"_Go on now, little Patricia, and don't let me find you again," he told the girl with a smirk._

_She quickly turned and started to run. Wyatt looked down towards his brother for a moment, watching as the boy watched the little girl run down the hallway, before bring his hand out in front of him and closing his fist. It happened in the blink of an eye, and the echo of the loud crack of Patricia's neck breaking echoed through the empty hallway._

"_No!" Chris called, trying to fight his way out of Wyatt's grip and to his young cousin's side, "NO!" Wyatt pulled him back, both arms wrapped around the boy's waist in a strong hold, "You promised me, Wyatt, you promised me she wouldn't die!"_

_Wyatt let out a sickening laugh and his brother fell to his knees, face soaked in tears, "Did you really think I would let her live?" he asked, "She was a threat, Christopher." _

"_She was six-years-old, Wyatt! She was just a kid!" Chris exclaimed, eyes still staring at the little girl's motionless body at the end of the hallway. The tears came down hard, and he felt his body shaking madly._

"_Christopher, calm yourself," Wyatt ordered sternly, hands grabbing onto the boy's shoulders as he turned the boy to face him. His brother didn't listen though, and the boy instead went on crying hysterically, "I said calm yourself, Christopher!' Wyatt ordered again, shaking the boy hard. _

_Chris looked up at his brother with pure disgust, but forced his shaky cries to settle and calmed down somewhat. Wyatt helped his brother to his feet, hands holding onto his upper arms, "It's time for us to go, Christopher," Wyatt insisted._

_Chris suddenly pushed his brother away and straight into the wall, trying at an attempt to run away. He was weak, too weak to orb, but he had to at least attempt to escape. Chris started his way down the hallway, running as fast as he could get his weak legs to go, but was pulled back as a hand grabbed at a chunk of his hair fiercely and pulled him back, "I said, 'It's _time_ to _go_,'" Chris felt a hard tug against his head and he was pulled back into his brother as he let out a cry of pain._

Chris yelped as he woke and backed straight into his bedpost, panting madly. His hand shot up quickly to his head, feeling around for the hand that he _swore _he had felt there moments ago.

His hand fell to his side as he started to focus on calming his frantic breaths, eyes traveling around the room. It was hard for him; his mind kept flashing back to the moment when Wyatt had snapped Patricia's neck. That sound echoing through his mind like a siren and he wanted it to stop. Why did he have to see that? He could deal with seeing himself be torturing, but having to see his young cousin die like that was not right. He hated these visions more than he hated anything magic related before. He still wasn't so sure about the whole thing being magic related, for all he knew he could really be going crazy. Hallucinations, psychosis, all signs of schizophrenia. Maybe that was what was going on with him, but he _was _a Halliwell, so the odds of there being a normal solution to this was very slim.

Chris let out a sigh and stood up, pulling on a pair of jeans that had been laying near his bed and a plaid shirt. He had to get going to Zooey's ballet recital soon, and she would have his head if he was late.

Chris sped down the stairs and made his way into the kitchen, this time not being met by the annoyance of a demon and a dagger flying his way. Instead the kitchen was filled with the smell of pancakes and eggs, his mother fussing over the stove with a smile. She loved to cook, and she was really good at it as well. She always made them home-cooked meals at least two times a day, and each dish she would make would be different and delicious.

Leo--he meant dad; he needed to stop screwing that up--was sitting at the table, newspaper held up so that it slightly covered his face. He took a sip of his coffee as he read before placing the mug back down in its spot and turning the page.

Wyatt had been the only one that had looked up with he entered the room, being the only one who was not preoccupied with something. He watched as his brother took the seat adjacent from his father, the screech of the chair catching both parents' attention and alerting them to their youngest son's presence. Leo looked up from his paper and Piper turned to look at the boy from the stove.

"Chris," his father started, folding up his paper while looking over to his wife, who was now bringing over a plate filled with pancakes. The boy looked up towards his father at the call, "Glad you could join us this morning."

"My pleasure, dad," Chris replied with a smirk as he grabbed a piece of toast from off the table and took a bite.

Chris' eyes travelled over to his brother, who sent him a satisfied grin. Chris raised an eyebrow at this, taking another bite out of his toast.

"_Guess who's still in trouble..." _Wyatt's voice ran through his mind, and Chris finally got why his brother was smiling like that.

"Are you shitting me?" Chris asked as he dropped his toast onto his plate.

"Christopher Perry!" Piper scolded her son for his word choice, the woman turning from her place at the stove to give her son a disapproving glare.

Leo had looked up to at his son's outburst, ready to scold the boy but his wife had beat him to the punch.

Wyatt shook his head in response to his brother's question, still showing off his smirk as he let out a laugh and stabbed at a big stack of pancakes that sat on his plate.

Chris looked from his mother to his father, "Why am I still in trouble?! It wasn't like I did anything _that _bad!" Chris crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, "I just came home late, big whoop." He shrugged and turned his gaze towards his mother, who he knew was in charge of his punishment for his measly little crime of staying out too late. Sure, he had come home a bit tipsy, but they hadn't picked up on it, which was a good thing. If his parents had found out he had been drinking, he would have been locked away in the house for a month and stripped of his orbing. He needed his orbing, it was his only means of quick escape from his annoying family and any demon who happened to bug him as well.

"You've missed curfew three nights in a row, Chris," Leo informed his son with a calm voice, as if he was pointing out the obvious--which he was, of course, "We haven't actually seen you around the house long enough to give you a punishment, but you had to at least _suspect _there would be one."

Chris shot his father and irritated glare from his slouched position in his chair, eyes falling up to his mother, who placed a plate of pancakes in front of him, "A week away from your friends should do you some good," Piper told her son as she stood in front of him, arms crossed, "and since you'll be home, why don't you clean the attic; it hasn't had a thorough cleaning in a while."

"But _mom--"_

"No 'buts,' mister," she pointed towards her son, wearing her authoritative mother look; the stern eyes and the stiff features, something Chris had gotten used to seeing lately.

Chris let out a sigh, leaned his elbows against the table and stabbed at his pancakes, "Zooey's ballet recital is today," he looked up from his food, seeing her features soften for a moment, "I promised her I would go, and it's not like I can really get into trouble there or anything..."

Piper looked over at her son for a moment, before giving in,"You go there and come straight back once it's done, you hear me," she turned back over to the stove and began to pour more bater onto the pan, "then you start on the attic."

Chris smiled and stuffed a slice of his pancakes into his mouth, "Yes, mommy dearest."

Just as Piper was about to scold her son again, she heard her name be called, "Piper," Four sets of eyes travelled over towards the call, spotting Phoebe standing in the frame of the door, her two daughters, Prudence and Peyton, standing beside her.

Piper turned and gave her sister a smile, but she knew she couldn't fool Phoebe. Her sister could read her like an open book even without her empathy--it was a sister thing. Phoebe knew Piper had been worrying like crazy about Chris and his odd behavior lately, and she could tell from the feelings she got off of her older sister that the stress was getting to her.

"Thanks for offering to watch Prudence and Peyton for me," she told her with a smile, "I really appreciate it. I've been stacked up with things to do lately and I really needed to get to the office for a while to work."

"It's no problem," Piper replied as she flipped a pancake on the pan.

Phoebe's gaze turned to Chris, who she was getting a strange read from. His emotions were like a crazy cluster that ranged from confused to furious to worried. Chris was giving her a worse vibe than Piper, which shocked her. He was feeling so much all at once that it was getting hard for Phoebe to stand being in the same room. Chris looked up at her, eyebrow raised at her staring.

"Hey, Chris," she greeted him cheerfully--maybe a little too cheerfully, "I haven't see you in a while, how are you?"

"Fine," Chris replied simply, standing up and quickly turning to Piper, "I'm going to leave now, I don't want to be late."

Phoebe felt a swift shift in Chris' emotions. The boy was now almost panicked, trying desperately to get away from her. The worry and confusion were still there, but had been pushed aside and his panic took full force. When Chris' gaze shifted her way, and she caught the suspicious glare that was sent her way, she knew Chris had remembered about her empathy. He was no fool, and he must have known the emotions he was giving off would send her into suspicions and was so prominent that it would be hard for her to miss. She was starting to get a headache now; she didn't know how Chris dealt with all of those different emotions, or why he was even feeling them. Those emotions were tossed in more than they should for a boy dealing with teenage angst.

Piper suddenly got an idea as she spotted Peyton eyeing Chris, "Why don't you take Peyton with you," she suggested, "Peyton, you're know Zooey, right?"

Peyton looked towards her aunt, a little taken back by her suggestion, before nodding, "Yeah, I know Zooey."

"Then it's settled," Piper exclaimed with a smile as she received a death glare from her youngest.

"You're not seriously giving me a babysitter, are you?" Chris asked as he crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

"You want to go or not?" Piper asked, crossing her arms and sending a smirk her son's way, knowing she had won once the boy rolled his eyes and let his hands fall to his sides.

"Fine," he stepped out and grabbed Peyton's upper arm, "let's go." With one last accusing look over at his aunt, the two disappeared in a swirl of blue and white, traveling up through the ceiling before the orbs were gone completely.

Phoebe took a seat down where Chris had sat and rubbed at her temples. She looked up towards her daughter, who was looking at her with a worried expression before, turning her gaze to Wyatt, sending him an unspoken question with a nod of her head.

Wyatt stood up and escorted his cousin out of the kitchen, angry that he wouldn't be able to hear what the three were going to begin discussing. He knew it had to be something about his brother by the way she had stared at him until he left and the way Chris looked at her. She knew something, and Wyatt was dying to know what.

Phoebe rubbed at her temples again, feeling as her headache died down a little. Piper took a seat next to her, and both she and Leo were ready and interested to hear what she had to say, "You son is an emotional _wreck," _She told her sister and brother-and-law, opening one eye to look towards them, "He's feeling so much all at once that I don't know how he can handle it."

Piper and Leo exchanged worried glances for a brief moment, before turning back to Phoebe, "He's hiding something from you guys."

Piper let out a snort and crossed her arms, "As if that was not obvious enough." She sat for a moment, before letting out a sigh and running a hand through her long brown hair, "What is going on with him?"

All of the Halliwell's were dying to know the answer to that question. Every uncle, cousin, and aunt was wondering what was going on with the boy, and each was trying to get Chris to give them hints. Phoebe had at first thought the whole thing had just been a spout of teenage rebellion, but after many months of dealing with the secretive, more hateful than ever Chris and his awfully painful feelings she had realized that there had to be something else going on. This wasn't average teenage rebellion.

"I don't know," Phoebe spoke up, turning her gaze onto a worried Piper before shooting a look towards a worried Leo. She could tell both parents were almost frantic about what was happening with their son, and she wished that her power could have helped more, "But if his hectic set of emotions tell me anything, it's that whatever it is, he definitely isn't handling it too well."

Phoebe rubbed harder at her temples, her headache still pounding. Whatever Chris was feeling inside of him had hit her like a tidal wave and almost knocked her off her feet. If it had been that bad for her, it must be ten times worse for Chris. That scared Phoebe more than anything. If he was feeling all of that--the confusion, the fear, the _pain_--then there was no way he'd last much longer without bursting. It was way too much for a teenage boy to be keeping inside, and she was afraid of what would happen when he finally just let it all out. Whatever was doing this had a powerful hold over her nephew, and he seemed content on hiding whatever it was from them all.

* * *

Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!

I'll try to get the next chapter done and edited as soon as possible, but until then, please review!

I love to hear what you guys think of the story, and they help me get myself to write more instead of slack off and do no writing for this story for a whole week.

Thanks again for reading!

:)


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas!**

I'm so sorry about the long wait! I started up on another Gilmore Girls fic that has been consuming my writing time and I made the stupid decision of buying Modern Warfare Two, which has quickly consumed most of my little free time I have left. Hopefully I can get the next chapter written and done faster.

Thank you all for the reviews, and I hope you guys keep it up!

:)

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Chris sat in the large auditorium with Peyton by his side, the stage that was laid out in front of them spotlighted and the room quiet. The girl leaned back in her seat, watching the stage with such interest, her eyes traveling over to her cousin every so often when she caught onto an odd thought that she had forgot to block out. She tried to keep out of her family's minds--it's not like she_ wanted_ to know everything they thought--but it was a hassle. It took a lot of concentration, and she sometimes liked to loosen her barrier and take a break. She felt bad when she would catch onto a thought that was meant to be kept private, but lately Chris' thoughts she caught onto made her feel more curious than bad. She got really weird reads off him. It was like the thoughts in his head belonged to someone else: they didn't fit Chris. But Chris hadn't really been Chris lately, so maybe that was why.

The curtain pulled back and revealed a row of dancers, all posed the same and standing with such elegance. Chris quickly spotted Zooey and leaned back in his seat with a smile. Whenever he saw Zooey up on that stage, dancing with such grace, it reminded him that she was at least somewhat normal. She looked beautiful and happy up there, hair tied up into a tight bun, blue eyes beaming. She felt the rush and excitement of being up on stage, all eyes on her. That was how he used to feel when he played piano. The thrill of being up on stage, pounding on those keys so hard and so gracefully that he completely forgot there was an audience and just let the music take him up on this high. Now, his highs were produced by booze and drugs, and that was the only way he could escape. Piano stopped working for him after the visions; he could escape people, but not his thoughts. When he was buzzed though, he felt like he could escape everything, his mind seemed to fog over and his thoughts were too blurry for him to even comprehend. It was a good feeling: there was no more confusion, no more pain, nothing. He just _was, _and that was the feeling of escape.

Music quickly started up, elegant piano mixed with trumpets and horns. The dancers perked up and began to move with grace around the stage. They twirled and jumped about with expressions of poise as the violins joined in. He suddenly began to feel lightheaded, his head tingling and thoughts blurring. He shut his eyes tight, trying to force the lingering feeling to vanish, and rubbed at his temples vigorously. When he opened his eyes though, the auditorium was empty and dim. The air around him was muggy, filled with a mix asbestos and dust. The place had been torn apart; seats ripped out of place, the stage collapsed and curtains torn down.

"_Lord Wyatt is sick of playing games with you, Chris," Zooey called from the stage, striding out in black leather and tall high-heeled boots. The two stood on opposite ends of the stage, the hole in the stage floor the only thing separating them. _

_Chris crossed his arms and let out a laugh, "Well, then things wouldn't be as fun," he replied with a smirk, "and I sure would miss being tortured and chased around by him constantly."_

"_Well, if you come with me, we can get a torture session set up rather quickly," she retorted fast with a matching look, "since you just seem to _love_ them so much."_

"_Ahh," Chris stepped out more towards the hole in the floor, eyes scanning his surroundings before landing back on Zooey, "I think I'll pass, but thanks for the offer."_

_Zooey let out an irritated sigh and decided to quite joking around with him, "Chris, what is the point of all this?" she asked, watching as Chris' smirk grew wider, "Just join us already. You'd be better off, and we could change this world for the better. We'd have all the power, and we could control everyone. The world we be perfect."_

"_You call this perfect?" Chris asked, motioning towards the destroyed building they stood in, "Zooey, just because we no longer have to hide who we are doesn't mean that this world is perfect. Wyatt has killed thousands, and his idea of a utopia is pretty much what I'd imagine hell to be like."_

"_Chris," Zooey rolled her eyes, "he only kills the people who try to kill us," she paused, mustering up a few examples, "Like the Witch Hunters, or the Resistance--"_

"_The Resistance has witches fighting on their side," Chris pointed out, "just because they want to kill him doesn't make them a threat to our whole kind."_

"_What, so Wyatt should just _let_ them run free, let them plan out assassination attempts and try to take down his forces?" Zooey asked with crossed arms._

"_Yes," Chris replied, as if that was the obvious answer, "it's not like they could really kill him: He's the freaking _Twice-Blessed. _No mortal or regular witch could actually take him down; he's too strong."_

"_It sounds to me like you want me dead, Christopher," The cold, stern voice of his older brother almost sent chills down his spine, and he quickly felt his thick, muscular hands wrap around his arms, grabbing him and locking his arms behind him._

"_No," Chris replied, trying to free himself, "I just don't think you should be killing all of these innocent people because they're trying to attempt something that we both know they could_ never_ do."_

_Wyatt tightened his grip and held his brother closer, his head leaning over his shoulder, voice ringing right through his ears, "Christopher, you never know what the enemy is capable of," he pointed out to his young brother, wearing a smirk, "they could figure out a way; I _do _have weaknesses you know. I am just human."_

"_You're not human Wyatt," Chris responded, voice strong and dripping with hate, "you lost your soul long ago. You're no longer human, you're pure evil."_

Chris could hear the faint sound of clapping from the real world as well as the scuffle of feet as they rose to give a standing ovation. Chris tried to keep focused on the sound, reaching his hands out in front of him to try and grab onto something, feeling that if he touched something he could free himself from this vision.

"_Sorry to hear you feel that way, Christopher," Wyatt told the boy, "it really hurts me to hear you say that." He felt Wyatt's hand release its grip on one of his hands, "I can forgive you though," Chris took this as he cue to act up, and he used his free hand to send Wyatt hurtling across the room and into a cluster of broken old seats._

_He quickly looked over towards Zooey, waiting to see what she would do. Her eyes traveled from Chris to Wyatt, over and over again. She watched as the older boy stumbled his way up and out of the rubble, looking over towards the two young witches with an angry glare. _

"_What are you just standing there for, Zooey?!" Wyatt exclaimed, causing the girl to go wide-eyed and look his way, "Attack him!"_

_Zooey looked over at Chris and locked eyes with him. Chris was waiting for her reaction, hands slightly curled up and ready to attack if she flung himself towards him. It hurt her to see that. Chris had been her best friend only a few months ago, and now he was ready to fight her. She understood she had betrayed him, she knew she had lost his trust the day she had crossed him and gave Wyatt the information on the whereabouts of the remainder of his family. He hated her now. The one person who she used to care for more than anyone in the world, the one person who she thought she would always rely on, hated her more than anyone. This was her fault, but she had no choice. Wyatt would kill her and her family if she did not join him, it had been her only choice. She couldn't decide on what she should do, though. Should she just stand there and keep out of the brothers' feud, or charge right in and fight against her old friend?_

"_Zooey!" Wyatt's harsh call caused her eyes to dart back towards the Dark Lord, watching as he made his way up the stage, wearing an expression of anger and eyes that shined rage, "You want me to trust you, you want to keep yourself alive? Then attack him!"_

_Her eyes traveled back to Chris, who was waiting for her to make a move. She knew what she had to do, and she knew that she'd regret it. Chris would never forgive her for this, and he would hate her for as long as he lived. She brought up her hands and looked over towards Chris with a sad, sympathetic gaze, "I'm so sorry, Chris." A burst of orange engulfed her hands as she raised them higher, and she sent a wave of fire her friends way. _

_Chris dodged swiftly and rolled off to the side of the stage, hands raised and ready to fight. Zooey started her way up to the young Halliwell and let the fire swirl around in her hands as she walked, black boots clanking with such emphasis against the wooden stage._

_Chris was stuck, he didn't know whether to attack her like she had, or do his best to dodge and run. He didn't want to hurt her; Zooey had once been his best _friend. _Even if he didn't mean anything to her anymore, she still meant something to him. She had been there for him when all went to hell, and even though she betrayed him, all of the memories of her being by his side and helping him through the mess his life became after Her death made him keep his hands lowered and powers in check. He wouldn't hurt her, she could try to hurt him as much as she wanted, but Zooey just meant too much to him still._

_Chris stood up and faced Zooey, ready to dodge at a moments notice incase she went to attack him again. "_

_Fight me, Chris," she insisted, lowering her hands for moment, the flames still burning brightly, "Don't just stand here and let us take you, fight me."_

_Chris heard the heavy stride of his brother's footsteps nearing behind him, and took a quick look back to his brother before turning his attention back to Zooey, "I'm not going to fight you," Chris told her, "not now, at least."_

_He felt Wyatt's heavy hands wrap around his arms again and he elbowed his brother in the stomach quickly, adding on an extra punch to send him back farther with his telekinesis. _

The clapping chimed in, and Chris could faintly hear Peyton calling his name, her hand tugging on his arm lightly. He tried to focus on that, he wanted to escape this vision before something truly terrible could happen.

_His brother let out an angry huff behind him and stumbled back up towards him._

"_Chris," Zooey spoke his name as if she was begging him to do something, _anything _instead of just stand there and let them take him, "Do something. Hit me, or I'll send another fireball at you." She raised her hands up, letting the flames roar wilder, and waited for him to move. Wyatt was back behind him, this time keeping his hands off of the boy. He knew Chris was going to come with them, the kid was still caught up in their old life--when Zooey was his friend and he was just the boy's older brother. He still thought of them as those people--though he seemed to be seeing less and less of the older brother he remembered now, and the boy was up for hurting the Dark Lord somewhat. Until he started to forget the old and deal with what they were now, he would not fight them. He had too many morals--Piper had forced that into him._

"_I'm not going to fight you, Zooey," he insisted, feeling the light touch of his brother's hand against his back. He knew what was going to happen next, and he knew this was the only way it could have happened. He had seen it this way, and there was no need to try and change what he had been shown. He suddenly felt a terrible pain shoot through his chest, and he looked down to find his brother's hand digging into his torso. Chris tried to contain his screams, but he could feel his powers being sucked out of him as fast as raging river and he couldn't hold it. He let out a scream and felt his brother wrap his free hand around his arm as he felt his knees go weak and he collapsed to the ground--_The clapping, the clapping, focus on the clapping! Chris reached out again to try to grab onto something--anything!--but he couldn't see. He didn't want to see the rest, he didn't want to feel the pain anymore, it was getting worse. He had never felt this much agony from his visions before, and he was afraid he would let out a scream in real life--_Zooey cried out his name and yelled at Wyatt, accusing him of being a liar. The flames that had been swirling in her hands had quickly disappeared, and she had gone wide-eyed and looked completely scared for her old friend._

"_You said you wouldn't hurt him if he didn't put up a fight!" Zooey exclaimed, dropping to the ground and staring into her friends wide, pain filled eyes. Droplets of sweat were trickling down his forehead, and he looked as if he wasn't going to survive the pain. She felt like at any minute he would go limp and never wake up. Whatever Wyatt was doing, it was going to _kill _him._

"_Calm yourself, Zooey," Wyatt informed her with a placid tone, "I'm only temporally binding his powers," he explained, holding his brother up against his chest as the boy went limp and his head tried to drop to the floor, body no longer able to support itself. The boy looked back over towards Zooey, brown eyes looking so dull and lifeless that the girl felt like she had to get Wyatt off him--but she couldn't, her life and her family's life would be in danger if she even tried to. "It hurts," the older Halliwell explained, adjusting the boy against his chest, "but it won't kill him." _

_Wyatt adjusted his hand--_focus on the clapping!--_that had dug inside Chris' chest--_find something, anything to grab!_--and the boy let out another horrific scream, eyes going wider._

_The process was incredibly painful, and Chris felt like he could no longer hold on. The pain was going to kill him, it was just that bad. _

"Chris!"

... Peyton?

"_Shh," Wyatt gave his brother a gentle--yet sadistic--smile as he shushed the boy, "it will all be over soon, and everything will be as it should be," Lord Wyatt paused before continuing and looking over towards Zooey, "my brother will be fighting rightfully by my side and we will all change this world for the better."_

"Chris, snap out of it!"

Chris blinked and he was back in his real life, Peyton gripping hard onto his hand. The audience was still clapping as the ballerinas took a bow. Had he only been gone that short of a time? It had felt so much longer to him. He was panting madly now, and he could still feel the pain burning inside his chest. It felt exactly the same, as if his brother's hand was truly still dug deep inside him, striping him of his powers and leaving him defenseless. He kept himself from letting out that scream that was begging to come out, and quickly stood up and pushed his way past the audience members that stood clapping, gripping Peyton's hand tightly as they walked. In all honesty, he was afraid to let go. What if he fell right back into that vision, right where they left off, and couldn't get out? He needed to keep a hold on reality until he was sure that he would be able to stay out of that vision.

"Chris!" she called as they sped their way down the walkway. The pain was dying down in his chest now, and Chris was thankful. The sooner the pain was gone, the sooner he felt he could keep himself from passing out. He was still working on catching his breath, though.

"Chris, what the _hell_ is going on?" Peyton was peeved her cousin wasn't giving her an answer, but at the same time worried. The older Halliwell gripped her hand so tight she thought he was going to draw blood.

Chris pushed the double doors open and pulled Peyton through the lobby--the girl calling his name and demanding an answer the whole walk. They exited the building and he let go of her hand. He collapsed onto a bench beside the door and quickly pulled out his pack of cigarettes and slid a stick out.

"Chris, are you going to explain?" she asked the boy as he placed the stick in his mouth, standing above him with a peeved expression and her arms crossed. She hated when he cousin smoked. It was terrible for him, and there also was that little factor of secondhand smoke that she didn't like one bit. She had never been a fan of her cousin's smoking, but she kept it a secret from his parents. She thought that was rather nice of her, considering her distaste for it.

The boy looked up at her as he finished lighting his cigarette and took a drag, leaning his head back against the brick wall. He let out a cloud of smoke and shut his eyes at the calming feeling that rushed over him. The pain was gone and his breath was caught up and normal.

"What just happened to you in there?" she inquired for what felt like the hundredth time. She really wished he cousin would answer the question. She felt like she was being a bit nosy, but she had inherited that from her mother, and she couldn't help that.

"Did you have a premonition?" That had been her first guess as to what had happened to her cousin in there, though this premonition was a very odd one if it was one. She didn't know what could have triggered it--it usually involved touching something, and he hadn't touched one thing since they got in there--and his heavy breathes and frantic expression made her feel like he had really lived the premonition instead of just seeing it.

Chris exhaled smoke and Peyton quickly moved away from the cloud. "Yeah," he lied, "that was it."

Peyton looked at her cousin skeptically before sitting down next to him, "What did you see, then?" She asked, receiving a glare from the boy.

"None of your business," he insisted, taking another drag, "It's not important or anything, it just was some stupid vision of the future."

Peyton rolled her eyes and rested her back against the bench. She watched as her cousin smoked, trapped in his thoughts, and slowly let her guards down. Rushes of Chris' thought swarmed her mind--a mixed jumble of words and visions and feelings. She tried to sort her way to what she wanted to find out, but he was such a mess. There was so much going on--too much--and she couldn't push her way to what she wanted to see. His thoughts were disorganized, chaotic, and she got glimpses of familiar, but unfamiliar, people. It was confusing, the little that she saw, so she couldn't possibly imagine how confusing it was for _him. _It was a mess, and it was how she would have imaged to find a crazy person's mind to be.

Chris suddenly sat up and went wide eyed with anger. He turned his gaze her was as he stood up quickly and pointed a finger her way, "Dammit, Peyton! I told you to stay out of my mind!" he exclaimed, grabbing her up from her seat and gripping her arm tightly. He couldn't stand his cousin anymore, she just kept pushing him and pushing him. He didn't need her to find out anything about what was going on with his mind, and she just needed to butt out. "Stop being so nosy and mind your own damn business for once, you understand?!"

Peyton fought to get her cousin to let go as she mumbled out a grunt, "Yes, now let _go_, Chris."

Chris quickly released his grip and Peyton went to rub her sore arm. She looked up to send a glare her cousins way, but caught onto an emotion her cousin had been hiding from them. His features had turned to a display of worry and fear as he took a long drag from his cigarette, and he ran a hand through his brown shaggy hair, eyes staring off towards the street. She hadn't seen any emotion from her cousin other than anger for the past eight months, and now, she finally got a glimpse of what he was really feeling without accidently going into his mind. Her cousin was a mess--mentally and emotionally--and whatever it was that turned him into the boy he became was draining him. It scared her. She was frightened for her cousin now, because whatever it was was sending him towards the deep end, and she was afraid he'd just snap and go insane.

"Sorry," Chris mumbled a quick--but sincere--apology about how rough he was with her, before gently grabbing her arm again and dragging her to an alley behind the dance studio, "Let's go."

With that, the two Halliwell's disappeared in a swirl of blue and white orbs as Chris dropped his cigarette onto the cold, concrete ground.

* * *

Thank you all for reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

I really appreciate it and I hope you all enjoyed the chapter.

I will work on getting the next one written and edited faster. Modern Warfare Two is close to being beaten, so more time can be devoted to writing!

Thanks again for reading, and place review!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, as usual, except for my own thoughts and ideas!**

Thank you all so much for the reviews for last chapter, I was so happy to see all of them! Sorry again about the long wait, but I have decided to spend this week (where I have less work than usual) devoted to getting more of this story written and done for you guys. I know exactly where I want it to go, and have the next few chapters all planned out, so writing it should be easy.

Enjoy the new chapter! :)

* * *

Wyatt sat in the sun room, textbooks and notebooks scattered on the table in front of him. He was trying to finish up his homework, working through rigorous math problems with no success. All he could think about was his brother and the way he and his aunt acted towards each other earlier that morning. He knew his Aunt Phoebe had felt something weird off Chris, and his brother seemed well aware that she had. He had practically sent a death glare her way before orbing out of the kitchen with Peyton in tow. Something was definitely going on with his brother; this whole teenage rebellion that Wyatt just thought was a whole _"Rebel Without A Cause"_ situation seemed be turning out to be something much more deep. His brother's rebellion was caused by something, and ever since his brother got hit by that dagger the morning before he had been trying to find out what was going on.

He tapped his pencil rhythmically against the table, eyes scanning over the words typed on the page--a jumble of variables and angles and theorems--trying hard to grasp the concept and get his mind to focus on his school work, but he just could not do it. Chris was just always in the back of his mind. He wanted to know what was going on. Not that long ago, he and Chris had been so close, and his younger brother would tell him anything. There had rarely been any secrets between them, and Chris actually _liked_ to be around him. Now, it seemed like Chris was trying to get away from him, that every moment they spent together was strained and uncomfortable for his brother. What had happened to make Chris so desperate to get away from him, as well as the whole family?

Wyatt heard the faint patter of steps against the ground and looked up from his textbook, meeting the gaze of his young cousin, Peyton. She took a few steps closer to him, wearing a small smile, and settled her eyes down onto the assortment of school books scattered about.

"Think you could take a five minute break so I could talk to you about something?" she questioned, causing Wyatt to raise an eyebrow out of curiosity, "It's about Chris," she added, the older Halliwell instantly perking up.

"Yeah," he dropped his pencil onto his notebook and leaned back in his chair. He patted the empty spot next to him, motioning for her to come and sit down beside him. The girl swiftly took the offer and settled herself down next to her cousin.

She pushed a strand of curly hair out of her face before beginning, "I know this is incredibly wrong of me, but I've been letting my guard down a little more around Chris lately, to get glimpses of his thoughts so I could figure out what was going on with him." She lowered her voice a little, in case her Aunt Piper or Chris were in ear shot, "I've been getting some really _weird _reads off of him."

"Like what?" Wyatt questioned, completely enthralled by his cousin's revelation.

"Like," she paused, trying to find a way to explain it to the elder Halliwell, "I don't know," she let out a sigh, "it's hard to explain. There were thoughts about how much he hated Uncle Leo, and I picked up once on this really weird thought he was having about you."

She paused again, still stuck on how to explain the other things she had found out, "It was just so confusing. His whole mind was this huge, disorganized mess, and I could hardly sort my way through it; I don't know how he handles it."

"I didn't want to tell my mom or yours," she told him, shifting in her seat, "I knew they would take immediate action, and if Chris knew I was doing this more than he thought--and purposely--he'd orb my ass to another dimension," Wyatt almost had to let out a laugh at that. It was true; Chris would not take too lightly to someone going through his thoughts. He was very ... paranoid--well, at least lately he was, "So, we need to keep this between us, alright?" she insisted, "I thought somebody should know, and I knew you would be able to keep it a secret, and besides, he _is_ your brother."

"I won't tell him," Wyatt promised, mind still trying to process all she had told him. He paused for a moment, before speaking up with a question "The weird thought about me that he had, what was it about?"

Peyton paused, trying to find the rights words to explain it to her older cousin, "It was about how you had hurt him, and he didn't understand why you had done it, and that it wasn't you," she looked up towards her cousin, his bemused expression matching hers, "I don't understand what he was thinking, though. You haven't hurt him, well, at least, I don't think you have."

"No," Wyatt shook his head, "I'd never hurt Chris, you know that, Peyton."

Wyatt lost himself in thought for a moment, trying to go over what would cause Chris to think that. He hadn't done anything really hurtful to the kid in a long while, and he just could not come up with a reason for the boy to be thinking that way. Chris was turning out to be so complex lately. He really confused the hell out of Wyatt, and the elder Halliwell just wished that the sixteen year old would at least give him a hint as to what was going on with him.

"I know," she responded, voice quiet, mind still stuck on the weird thought as well. "I don't know what's going on with him," Peyton started, giving a shrug, "it's confusing. His mind is a mess."

Wyatt gave a nod of agreement at that. His brother's thoughts were making no sense to him. He had done nothing hurtful to the kid in ages, and what was up with this, "_it wasn't him,_" crap? What the hell was he talking about? It was confusing and Wyatt just couldn't make any sense of it. Things were definitely turning out to be more complex than he imagined them to be.

"Peyton," Wyatt started, grabbing the girl's attention, "you want to know what's wrong with Chris, right?"

The girl gave a quick nod, raising an eyebrow, trying to figure out where Wyatt was going with this. She had a feeling she knew though, and it would involve snooping around in her cousin's head a little more than she should.

"If you start," Wyatt paused, trying to find the proper phrase that wouldn't make it sound like he was betraying his brother's privacy, "letting your _guard down_ a little more, then maybe we can figure something out."

Peyton's lips curled up into a smirk at the idea, instantly liking it. A small part of her felt a tinge of guilt for liking the idea so much--breaking into her cousin's mind like that was a serious invasion of privacy--but it was for his best interest, right? If she and Wyatt could figure out what was happening to Chris, they could help him, and then he would be grateful for her little invasion of privacy. It was also killing her that she didn't know what was going on. She couldn't help that she was so nosy; she had inherited it from her mother.

"I like the way you think, Wyatt," she replied, smirk still intact.

Wyatt sent her a matching grin, and the two knew they were at agreement.

* * *

His mother seemed to be a big fan of abusing her children and forcing them to do hard labor, Chris had decided as he scrubbed rigorously at the wooden floor of the attic. Anything that was cruel and caused her children annoyance and perspiration was the best punishment in her eyes. He wished she would have just given him a simple grounding instead of forcing him to clean out the damn attic.

He dipped the sponge into the soapy liquid that sat in the bucket beside him, squeezing the excess off before taking it back out and beginning to scrub once again. He'd been working on this attic since he got home from Zooey's ballet recital, and after three hours, it seemed like he had only gotten an eighth of his work done. Dried demon guts were terribly hard to get off of wood and the whole concept of him actually scrubbing at the remains of a demon irritated him. All of this scrubbing and lack of booze gave his mind time to wander on his visions, which was even more irritating. He was craving something, _anything_, that would allow him to escape, but thanks to his mother and her cruel punishment for such a measly offense as staying out just a _little_ too late three nights in a row, he couldn't.

He started scrubbing harder at a stain on the floor, mind fuming over thoughts of his earlier vision. He was still a little freaked by that--well, a little freaked would be an understatement; he insanely frightened. He had never, ever had a vision occur in his waking hours, and the feeling he had, when he was desperately trying to grab onto something, focus on the clapping, and escape it, was horrifying. He could deal with them happening while he was asleep--he knew when to expect it and usually could get himself to wake up--but now, having them randomly and unpredictably in the middle of the_ day; _he didn't know if he could handle that. This shouldn't be happening to him. All he wanted was to be a normal teenager, but no, his heritage wouldn't--_couldn't_--allow him that one simple thing. Being a Halliwell was a curse.

His hand started scrubbing even harder at the stain that did not seem like it wanted to come out. _Dammit, dammit, _dammit!, he cursed to himself. He hated these visions, he hated being a witch, he hated his parents, his cousins, his uncles, his aunts, his brother, the Elders, everything! He just wanted everything to be normal, he never asked to be a witch, he never asked to be born, he never asked for these visions.

Chris' features contorted in anger, wrinkles scrunching up against his nose, and he scrubbed even harder at the stained spot on the floor. He suddenly lifted the sponge from off the ground and flung it across the room, standing up and letting his eyes settle on the bucket filled with soapy water. He kicked it, and a flood of water spilled and slid it's way across the wooden floor.

"Fuck this!" Chris cursed, walking over towards the stained glass windows, hands digging in his pocket--shaking with anger--and pulling out his pack of cigarettes. He patted the box and pulled one out, placing it quickly in his mouth and grabbing out his lighter. Once the end of the stick was lit and glowed orange he took a long, soothing drag, hands still shaking as he let out an exhale of smoke. He didn't care if his parents came in and saw him smoking, he didn't care if they grounded him for another month, gave him another part of the house to scrub away at, he just needed a goddamn _cigarette_ and they were _not_ going to stop him.

His eyes wandered over to the puddle of soapy water on the floor as he took another puff and he let out a sigh. He'd have to clean that up, and it was now seeping into the rugs that sat on the floor. He had bigger things to worry about than the small mess he had made in the attic. These visions were happening while he was awake! He needed to solve this problem, because who knew when the next one would occur. He could just drop in the middle of class, or even worse, in front of his parents! He can't handle this anymore, he shouldn't even have to in the first place ...

"Chris?" the faint call of his father's voice could be heard, as well as the sound of his feet climbing their way up the stairs.

"Shit," the boy let out a curse and quickly looked down at his cigarette, then over to the puddle of water that had settled near one of the rugs he had pushed aside. He took one last, frantic puff of his cigarette before causing the half smoked stick to disappear in a swirl of blue and white orbs, sending it somewhere outside of the manor.

His eyes settled back on the puddle of water, and his father's footsteps could be heard getting louder and nearer, "Uh," he ran a hand through his hair, before starting up again, "Though this may be personal gain ... I am really not to blame, the mess was made because I am mentally sick ... so clean this attic, and make it quick ...?"

When the puddle disappeared in a swirl of orbs and the bucket was upright again, filled with the soapy water that had once been on the floor, Chris let out a sigh of relief. He couldn't believe that shit spell had just worked, but he was thankful. He quickly rushed his way back to the bucket and grabbed up the sponge again, kneeling down and proceeding to rub at a spot on the floor right as his father walked in.

"I came to see how it was going," Leo told his son, watching as the boy looked up at him, hand still scrubbing hard at the demon guts that had stained the floor, an annoyed glare gracing his features.

"Great, dad," he replied sarcastically, eyes landing back on the floor where he was scrubbing, trying to see if the stain was gone yet, "just great. I just _love_ scrubbing demon guts off of the floor."

Leo leaned against the doorframe as he crossed his arms, watching as the boy plunged his hand into the water to get the sponge wetter. He couldn't help the smile that had formed on his lips at the word "dad;" he had been waiting to hear that again. Whenever his son called him Leo, it stung at his heart and reminded him of the other Chris, the one who had told him of their estranged relationship and openly expressed his distaste for the ex-Elder. He tried so hard to be a better dad, he would always focus on spending as much time with each son as possible, and he never missed a birthday or school event for either. He would not let his work or anything else get in the way of his family. He felt like he had succeeded in being the father that Chris had deserved; he had made sure to become close with him, to not leave him out of anything, and to always be there for him. Though he and Chris had somewhat drifted apart these last few months, he felt he still had a close relationship with the boy. From the point of Chris' birth (and the other Chris' death) he had been devoted to being a good father and pushing all work aside for his children. He had watched Chris grow up from the toddler who orbed himself around the city, causing his family to run around hectic looking for him, always wearing a smile that just fixed everything when they found him, to the boy he was today--the teenager with a rebellious streak and a hate for all things magic. Though his son was somewhat of a troublemaker at the moment, and the two tended to bat heads more and more lately, he wouldn't give up this time with him. He would be there for Chris, through everything, and he wouldn't neglect his son when the times got tough, because that wasn't what a father did.

"Why are you smiling?" Chris sneered from his place on the floor, his eyebrow raised and features creased in annoyance. He slammed the sponge back down against the floor, causing soapy water to splatter about, gaze still locked on his father.

"No reason," the ex-Elder responded, standing up straight and heading over to his son. The boy turned his gaze back down to the sponge on the ground, and he started scrubbing harder at the floor.

"Your mother said that you could stop cleaning for today. She has dinner ready," he told the boy, watching as he looked up from his spot on the floor, hand stopping it's repetitive movements, "Aunt Phoebe, Uncle Coop, and the twins are joining us."

Chris started up scrubbing again, quickly deciding he would not be joining them. Aunt Phoebe--the nosy empath--and Peyton--the nosy telepath descendant of said empath--would both be there, and he didn't need either of them going into his mind and finding out things they shouldn't know. It was too much of a risk to go down there with his mind as messy as it was right then. He would have to hold up a strong barrier to block both of them, and right now he was exhausted from that vision and having to work on cleaning up the attic all day. He definitely needed more sleep, but he hardly ever got it.

"I think I'll just pass on eating tonight," Chris told his father, throwing the sponge into the bucket as he stood up, "I'm not feeling too good; I think that inhaling all of these cleaning products has made me go lightheaded."

"Chris--" Leo started, arms crossed and ready to fight his son's ridiculous (and obviously untrue) claim.

The boy started his way past his father and to the door, turning quickly to fight off his father's rebuttal, "I've got homework too--a shit-load of History--"

"Christopher!" Leo scolded the boy, "Watch your language!"

"Sorry," the boy held his hands up in defense and rolled his eyes, "but really, I'm going to go get started on that, then get some well needed rest so I can wake up all refreshed and ready to spend another day bathing in the fumes of cleaning chemicals."

"Chris!" Leo called again, but it was too late. The youngest Halliwell had disappeared from sight and quickly stomped his way down the stairs. The faint sound of the boy's bedroom door shutting could be heard, and Leo let out a sigh, eyes falling onto the bucket filled with soapy water.

Piper wouldn't be pleased with this: for one, she had made Chris' favorite--lasagna--as a sort of peace treaty between the two. She wanted to get along again, she missed the time when she and Chris were close and the boy actually spent time with the family. Also, it would hurt Phoebe to see Chris skipping out on dinner. The way Chris had looked at her that morning, with such dislike and distrust--had hurt her. She had been very close to Chris, and when he got his premonitions, she was there to help him through it all. She had helped him deal with it, she was empathetic towards his feelings and she understood how some of things he saw were terrifying and hard to watch, but they could change what they saw--she had taught him that. Chris had become close with both aunts, but Phoebe would always be the one who had helped him with his magical life the most.

Leo heard Piper call his name from down below, and with that, the man turned and started his way down the stairs, knowing he would have to explain why Chris would not be joining them and be met by two disappointed looks from his wife and his sister-in-law--a sad, but common, sight now-a-days.

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Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you all review!

I will try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible, but first, I need to write it, haha. Trying to work on two Fanfics at the same time (plus another story for my Advanced Composition class) is incredibly hard. I will work on this as much as i can, though, and try to spilt my time between my Gilmore Girl's story and this one.

Thank you again for reading, and _please_ review!

:)


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas!**

Thank you all for the lovely reviews, I appreciate them all so much! So, the week devoted to this story produced this nine and a half page chapter and two pages of the next chapter. I ended up getting sick on Thursday (still am sick) and I tried to write but I just felt so bad, so instead I just watched some Charmed (Season 6, of course.) :)

I also just got Assassin's Creed II, which is really getting in the way of my writing (as seen perviously with MWII.) Blame my friends for that: they get me to buy all of these video games by telling me how amazing they are.

You'll all be happy to hear I've decided to focus all of my writing time on this story and to put my Gilmore Girls story on the back-burner for a while. I really want to get this story going more; I have so many ideas for it that I just haven't had time to write and I'm kind of stuck on my other story anyway (you guys give more reviews and I know people are actually reading and enjoying it more.)

Enjoy the new chapter everyone! :)

_

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When Chris regained consciousness, he was in a dark, grimy room. Fluorescent lights were shinning down above him, causing his unadjusted eyes to squint before shutting tightly, not opening back up again until they were fully adjusted to the light. He went to move his arms, but found them being held down by something. He lifted his weak head up to get a better look and found himself strapped onto a table. There were wires and tubes looping out of his body; one traveling out of his nose and to a bag filled with an unknown drug that seemed to be hazing his mind, and another wire running from his hand to a beeping monitor. He shut his eyes and tried to orb out, but he just could not get himself to focus on the power. His mind felt clouded and blurred, and he could not grasp onto any of his powers and all attempts at breaking free did not work._

_Chris suddenly picked up on the tap of steady footsteps nearing and he lifted his head to find a familiar man walking his way. He instantly remembered what had happened and where he was, and he let his head fall back onto the table, the drugs in his system making it incredibly hard for him to keep it up. _

_The man stopped next to the table and moved one of the lights out of the way, taking a good look at the boy strapped to the table, then peering over at the bag that was feeding him drugs, "I see you've finally woken up," he started, eyes traveling over to the monitor quickly and noting the steady heartbeat before pulling over a metal chair, the legs screeching against the concrete floor as he dragged it over to the table._

"_Why haven't you killed me?" Chris asked, voice coming out much more weaker than he would have pleased. Whatever they were pumping him with, it was really powerful. _

"_Because you are of more value than the rest of your kind," the man replied simply, pulling over a chart that sat on the table beside where the boy was held down, "Besides, your brother wouldn't take too kindly to me killing you, he already hates my organization and I don't need him anymore irritated with me than he already is."_

"_He's still going to kill you all_,_ Pratt_,"_ Chris slurred out, shutting his eyes tight for a moment, the drugs starting to cloud his vision, "He won't let any one of you Witch Hunters live--which is the only plan of my brother's that I am all for--and I bet you you're first on his list."_

_Nathaniel let out a laugh and leaned back in his seat, hands gripping onto the clipboard, "Of course," he replied, "I'm well aware of your brother's plan, but I'll have you know, I have a few plans of my own as well." He clicked the top of a pen against the hard surface of the clipboard, "Hence why you are here, and still breathing," he paused, before adding, "And, besides, we don't kill _every _witch we capture. Just the extremely dangerous ones, and in the drugged up state we will be sure to keep you in, you will be no threat at all." _

_Chris scoffed at that and sent a glare the older man's way, "So, that's your 'big plan?'" He asked, giving Pratt a small, defiant smirk, "Keep me drugged up and locked in here so that he'll come barging in and kill you all?" a beat, "I approve," his smile grew wider, "I'll enjoy knowing that every Witch Hunter has been killed and the rest of us can live freely again."_

"_No," Nathaniel responded, crossing his arms, "We've set up arrangements for you to be transferred to one of our prison camps," he leaned forward in his seat and tapped on one of Chris' wrists, where a bandage rested against his skin, "we've already marked you with a number and barcode," he told the boy, peeling off the tap that held the gauze in place, revealing a freshly finished tattoo, still red and sore around the dark black lines of the barcode and the ten numbers that sat above it, "You'll spend a few weeks in the camp, and your brother, of course, will find out we have you. Then we'll make a sort of deal with him for your release."_

"_Deal?" Chris inquired, "What do you get out of it?"_

"_Well," Pratt started, "in exchange for your freedom and the promise that we will leave you and the rest of the Halliwell family alone, he will let us continue on with our work of riding this world of your dangerous kind," he paused, "it will be a sort of alliance, I guess you could say."_

_Chris couldn't help but let out a weak, slurred laugh at this, "And you think he'll just walk out of here after shaking your hand and getting me back?" He smiled at this, knowing full well what his brother would do to them all, "You don't know Lord Wyatt at _all_." _

"_And you do?" Pratt crossed his arms and let a smirk grow on his face, "From what I've heard, you didn't even see the signs that your brother was turning evil. You're family choose to ignore it, and now look at where we are." He leaned back in his chair as his smirk grew wider, "All of you _things_ deserve to die because of what your brother is doing to this world."_

_The Witch Hunter knew he had hit the kid deep when Chris didn't send back a retort, knowing full well that all that of what he said was true. This world was all to hell because of what his older brother--the _witch_--had done. His sadistic rule over the city and the entire country had turned their world into chaos. _

"_I would love to just round all of you monsters up and fire away," Pratt told the boy with an evil, sickening tone, "you things have destroyed everything, let this world turn into the hell that sits outside of this building, and you _all_ deserve to pay for what has been done." _

_Chris looked over towards Pratt and noticed that he had pulled out a revolver, his finger spinning the barrel around as the silver metal shined in the light. The Witch Hunter kept his eyes on the gun, a smile adorning his sickening features, and Chris wasn't sure if he planned to use it on him or not. He had said that he wanted to keep him alive, but after that malicious and hate-filled speech about his kind, he didn't know if he had changed his mind and was ready to pull the trigger, splattering his brains onto the metal table he was tied down to._

_There was a sudden bang from the hallway, and both Pratt and Chris turned their head to the door, expressions filled with curiosity. The two shared a look before Pratt stood up from his seat and started his way to the door. There was another loud crash from the hallway, and a harsh shriek could be heard escaping the lips of some unknown victim. Pratt paused at this, stopping in his tracks, hands still clutching his gun and eyes glued to the door. He spun the barrel of his gun and released the safety before proceeding a few steps closer to the door. There was another bang--this time extremely close to the room where they were--and Pratt's features took on an angry and determined look. He cocked the gun, finger resting on the trigger, ready to fire, and lifted it slightly up towards the door._

_There was a loud bang at the door, then silence, followed by an even louder bang, which caused the door to swing open and break off it's hinges. Pratt's features changed to pure hate and disgust as he spotted the familiar blond-haired boy, dressed in all black, energy ball swirling in his hand._

"_If it isn't the monster himself," Pratt started, pointing the gun towards the Dark Lord, "we were just talking about you." He looked back over towards the younger of the two witches before turning and giving the older Halliwell a smirk, "I wasn't expecting this little visit until later, though. How did you find out we had him?"_

_Wyatt's gaze fell onto his drugged up brother, tied to the table like he was some sort of criminal, and his features hardened. He looked back over to the Witch Hunter and felt his temper rise, "Sadly for you, you've got a trader amongst your ranks, Nathaniel."_

"_Really?" Pratt raised an eyebrow at this, backing over towards the younger witch, gun still pointed at Wyatt, "Isn't that a shame. Tell me, what was his name? I'd like to know which of my crew will be killed off today."_

"_He's already dead," Wyatt replied, eyes traveling back over to his brother, sending him the message "_none of these people will get away with what they've done to you, no one is allowed to mess with my brother" _before looking back at the man and adding, "And soon you will be too." _

_Wyatt raised his hand, causing the energy ball that had been resting patiently there to fly off towards Nathaniel. The man quickly dodged, collapsing to the ground and banging into a wall as he rolled past the ball. Wyatt quickly waved his hands, causing the straps that had been holding his brother down to snap apart, releasing the boy from his stiff position. Wyatt rushed over to his brother, eyes still watching Nathaniel with great interest as he unattached the wires that trailed up to the monitor and pulled out the tub that was stuck in his nose._

"_Christopher, are you alright?" He asked, watching as his younger brother sat up slowly, still affected by the drugs in his system. Wyatt held a hand up to his back to support the boy, knowing full well that the drugs they had been pumping into his system would keep him weak and droopy for a while._

_He gave a quick nod, before turning his gaze back over towards the fallen Witch Hunter. Pratt used the wall to push himself up as quick as he could muster, and his hand swung the revolver swiftly and pointed it straight towards the two brothers. _

_The older Halliwell swung his arm out, causing the Witch Hunter to fly back, but before either brother could register what had happened, the sound of a gunshot rang through the room and Wyatt felt his brother jump up and let out a gasp. Chris slowly tilted his head down to his chest, and his eyes widened as he saw his shirt began to soak up with blood. His wide eyes travelled up to his brother, the same look of fear and shock greeting him as Wyatt croaked out in a whisper "Chris."_

_Chris let out a few harsh coughs, feeling the bitter iron taste of blood rush against his tongue as it rose from his throat and began to drip from his lips onto his paling skin, "Wy," the younger Halliwell called out to his brother before letting out another cough, producing more blood that dripped from his mouth down onto his already blood stained shirt._

_Pratt let out a harsh and sickening laugh, causing Wyatt to set his gaze the man's way. His features hardened quickly, a look of pure hate and anger contorting his features._

"_One more of you _things_ taken care of," Pratt hissed out, a wide grin on his face as he watched with enjoyment as the young witch bled out in front of him. _

_Wyatt could no longer keep his cool, and he completely snapped. He summoned up an energy ball into both of his hands and flung them both at the man who had shot his brother--the one person that he still truly cared about. No one messed with his brother and got away with it. No one was allowed to hurt him other than he himself. _

_Pratt hissed as the balls collided into him, burning his skin and sending him into a fit of horrific screams as he felt his chest burn up as the second one hit. _

"_You son of a _bitch!" _Wyatt cursed as he flung his arm out, causing the injured Witch Hunter to fly up against the wall. Wyatt kept a hold on the man's throat, watching--eyes filled with rage--as the man struggled to breath. He tightened his grip and watched as Pratt's eyes bulged out of their sockets and his face reddened, waiting until the man stopped his kicking and let himself fall into the darkness._

_Chris watched the scene with blotchy vision, the wound in his stomach bleeding out onto the cold table and trailing down to the floor, dripping, dripping, dripping down into a puddle below his feet. He kept replaying the scene in his head, not even noticing as Wyatt rushed to his side once again and began chanting comforting mantras to him. You're going to be okay ... everything will be alright ... over and over, but much more censored and gapped, Chris missing out on key words and syllables. All he could think of as his brother raised his hands up against the bleeding wound the heal him was the sound of that gunshot, ringing and ringing and ringing in his head. Ringing, ringing, _ringing.

Chris woke up with a start, unable to hold in the coughs that had been swelling up inside his lungs. The pain was radiating through his chest, and it almost made him feel the need to vomit. It was practically unbearable, but he knew it wasn't real. It felt real, but there was no gunshot wound, there was no blood seeping through his clothing, it was just bare and untouched skin. A hand shot up to his mouth, wear he could taste the iron crimson blood that had been dripping down his mouth after the shot, and he wiped a finger near the left corner. When he brought it up to his sight, his eyes went wide and horrified as he spotted the dark red liquid staining his fingers, shinning in the moonlight. He quickly lifted up his shirt, thankful to find that there was no gunshot wound, and relieved as the pain seemed to die down. The blood though, he didn't understand why he had coughed up blood ...

The ringing he had heard was still repeating itself, and Chris' head snapped towards the sound. On his night table sat his cellphone, screen lit up and ringing repeatedly. He quickly grabbed a tissue and wiped off the blood before picking up the phone and placing it to his ear.

"Hello?" he mumbled into the receiver softly, keeping his voice down so that his parents would not hear him.

"Hey," Zooey's voice replied, "took you long enough to answer."

"Well, Zooey," Chris started, looking around his room as he tried to spot out a trash can, "I was asleep, because it's," he turned to check the clock quickly, "two in the morning!" Why the hell was his friend calling him at two in the morning?!

"I'm well aware of the time." She stated as Chris spotted his trash can--hidden under his desk where he had kicked it earlier that day, "You told me to call you around now so we could go demon hunting. Remember?"

Chris quickly tossed out his bloody tissue as he remembered their conversation earlier that day, after he had been given off cleaning duty and Zooey called him, sounding rather peeved. He had made the promise to sneak out and go demon hunting with her if she would stop whining and bitching at him until later that night. Of course, Zooey had not forgotten this and was up and ready to demon hunt at the ungodly hour of two in the morning. Couldn't she just be a normal person and sleep?--or better yet, not demon hunt at all?

Chris let out a moan and shut his eyes as he ran a hand over his face, "Zooey," he whined, plopping back down into bed, "can we not do this tonight?"

"Chris, come on!" Zooey exclaimed, "You said we go demon hunting tonight. We haven't gone in two weeks!"

"And what a shame that is," Chris replied sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

"Chris!"

"Zooey," Chris started, letting out a sigh, "I'm tired. And hungry. And feeling pretty shitty right now." His mind flashed back to his vision quickly, and he shut his eyes and let out a moan, "We'll do it some other time."

Zooey let out an irritated grunt and huffed, "Fine! I'll see you tomorrow, Chris."

Before Chris could even get her name out to give her an apology--though he didn't see why she had to get so pissed about it--the call had ended and Zooey was no longer on the line.

Chris let out another sigh and threw his phone back onto his night table as he laid his back down against the bed, eyes shutting tightly as he began to rub rigorously at his temples. He felt a headache coming on, and he could still taste that coppery crimson blood in his mouth. He didn't understand why he had started coughing it up, but he didn't really understand a lot of things, like why he felt pain from the visions or why he even had them in the first place. No, he was a Halliwell, that was why. He was cursed to suffer because of his stupid parent's "forbidden love" and his dumb lineage. God, why couldn't he have just been born to a set of normal parents? Ones who weren't blowing up demons or who hadn't technically died in 1942.

Chris let out one more sigh before standing up and making his way to the door. There was no way he'd allow himself to go back to sleep that night, and he desperately needed to get the metal taste that was stinging his taste buds out of his mouth. He slowly and quietly made his way down the hallway and past his parents' room before making a quick left and stepping down the stairs. He made his way to the kitchen and went straight for the fridge. The leftover lasagna quickly caught his eye and he snatched the container from it's place on the shelf. A plate was grabbed from one of the cabinets and he dished himself out a hefty helping of food, stomach growling and moaning from hunger. Skipping out on dinner had been the best idea, he knew that, but he always ended up incredibly starved lately. He'd been skipping so many meals lately because of his family and he didn't need to add malnutrition to his list of never ending problems. He already had sleep deprivation and psychosis to deal with.

He placed the dish into the microwave and pressed a few buttons, the box lighting up to heat up his food as he turned his gaze away. His eyes landed on his parents' alcohol cabinet, and when he spotted the bottle of strong vodka that seemed to be staring at him, calling out to him, he just couldn't resist. He needed a drink bad right then, and one or two shots they would hardly miss; and besides, if they didn't want him to have sip, they shouldn't leave it out in his reach. He opened up the cabinet and grabbed the bottle down from it's place, smiling as he snatched up a glass and watched the clear, potent, drink pour down into the glass. He placed the bottle back in it's place before holding up the glass and staring at the clear liquid. His lips curled up into a wide grin, and tilted the glass up towards the sky.

"To insanity," he toasted quietly with a smirk before gulping down the liquid in one, swift motion.

He placed the glass in the sink, making sure to rinse it and wash it throughly before going over to the microwave to pop it open and take out his meal. The warm aroma of cheese and sauce greeted him as he lifted the warm plate out of the microwave and he couldn't help but smile. Lasagna had always been his favorite--especially his mother's. She knew how to make the most delicious sauce to drench over the soft noodles and knew exactly how much cheese to place between each layer. Her cooking was amazing. Sadly, he'd been having to eat it leftover lately--it always tasted the best when it was right out of the oven.

He settled down at the table and took the first stab at his food, stomach thankful and gracious as he took that first heavenly bite. He could feel the alcohol kicking in somewhere in the back of his mind, just giving him that small buzz he had needed at the moment, and he continued on eating with a good feeling.

The small sound of footsteps were barely heard by the young witch, and he didn't realize that someone else had entered the room until he heard his name gently called with that motherly voice, "Chris."

He turned his head towards the call to spot his mother standing near the entrance to the kitchen, wrapped up in a robe, her hair tied up into a ponytail. She took a few steps closer to the table as she went on, "What are you doing up?"

The boy gave a shrug of his shoulders and took another bite of his lasagna as his mother slid into the chair adjacent from him, "Just hungry." He replied, cutting off another piece of noodle with the side of his fork.

"Did I wake you?" Chris asked his mother, giving a quick look her way before his eyes traveled back down to the food on his plate.

"Yeah," she watched as Chris took another bite, eyes still looking away from her, "I heard your phone go off." Chris' gaze landed up on her, "I'll need you to give it to me tomorrow morning: your grounded, so no phone privileges."

The boy let out an irritated huff and stabbed down at his food, "Come on, mom," he started, "you're already making me do hard labor, can't I at least keep the phone?'

Piper sent him that stern glare that only mother's seemed to be able to pull off; the one that said everything that needed to be said with just a flash of her eyes and gave him the upsetting answer that he knew was coming. He sighed before stuffing another bite of food into his mouth, "Fine," he mumbled, "is that all you came down here to do, or do you want to chain me up in my bedroom for the rest of the night?"

"Chris," Piper started off with a warning tone. It was too early for her son's rebellious sarcasm, and she wanted to actually have a civilized conversation with him. Yes, she had woken up because of the ringing coming from her son's room, but her motive for coming down here was not just to take away his phone. She wanted to mend things with him in some way. Chris acted like he hated her and Piper couldn't handle that. She loved her son more than anything, and to think that he hated her the way he seemed to just tore at her heart.

The worn mother let out a sigh and started up again, her voice much more calm and gentle, "How was Zooey's dance recital?"

Chris looked at her with wide, surprised eyes, his fork almost dropping onto the small bit of food he had left on his plate. He regained his cool quickly and stabbed at the last piece of food on his plate, "Fine," he replied, stuffing the last piece of lasagna into his mouth.

Piper seemed to be waiting for him to go on, to give her some sort of detail about the event. He obliged, adding simply, "She danced, I clapped, the end." He stood up from his seat and grabbed his sauce covered plate from off the table.

Piper watched as her son dropped his plate in the sink with disappointment. Chris didn't seem to want to talk, and she could tell he was dying to leave her company and escape back to his room. She didn't understand how things had become this way between them. She remembered how close they were when Chris was just a kid; the boy running up to her with all smiles, face covered in flour as they baked a fresh batch of Chocolate Chip cookies. He had been her Peanut then, and he would always be her Peanut, but it just killed her to see him acting the way he did now. He avoided the family at all costs, snapped at his father, stayed out as late as he pleased, worrying them sick, and God only knows what else he's been up to. She was worried--really worried--about her son and the way he'd been acting lately and desperately wished things could be the way they were months ago. Everything had been so much better; Chris got along with the family, he didn't get into much trouble, he liked it at their home, and he was _happy. _She barely ever saw that old grin of his anymore. She barely ever saw _him_.

"I'm going to head back to bed," Chris lied, nodding his head off towards the stairs. He did not intend on sleeping again that night, and would just sit outside and smoke a few cigarettes to keep him sane for the next day. There would be no escape from his duty to the attic that day, and he knew Piper would be checking up on him often to make sure it was being cleaned to her liking.

She nodded and stood up from her seat as Chris took a few steps towards the door, "That sounds like a good idea," she replied as she walked over to her son, grabbing a napkin on the way, "You've got a bit of sauce on your face," she told him, handing him the napkin with a smile.

Chris gave a swift, "Thanks," before he wiped at his lips, being sure to remove all traces of the red tomato sauce that had dripped on his lips. He looked down at the napkin to see how much had been on there and quickly hid his shock as he looked closer at the substance. It hadn't been sauce his mother had noticed, it had been blood. He must have not gotten it all off when he was in his room. If she had come down and spotted that on him before he had eaten anything, he would have been screwed. She would have fussed over him and woken up his father so that the doctor could examine him throughly.

A part of him wished it had happened that way though. A part of him just wanted to tell his mother and his father everything--tell them of all the pain, all the darkness, all the death--and finally have someone there to help him through it all. It was getting harder to deal with it all by himself, and though it sounded childish, he wanted his mother to just hold him the way she used to when he was scared or hurt and tell him everything would be alright as she stroked a hand through his hair in a comforting gesture. He hadn't had that feeling in ages; the feeling of protection and assurance that things would truly get better, that this would surely not last forever.

But he couldn't do it.

He couldn't tell them what had happened in those visions, he couldn't break their hearts that way. He didn't want to share the pain with anyone else, he didn't want to cause his parents and family anymore pain because of him. He had already hurt everyone of them in some way since the visions started--neglecting them, sending them hateful glares, avoiding them. He felt bad enough about that and he didn't want to hurt them any worse.

Chris started his way out of the kitchen and Piper followed her youngest as he made his way out of the dining room and up the stairs, his hand reaching up to rub at his eyes every few minutes. He seemed tired lately, much more than any usual teenager should be. She had picked up the faint sign of bags under his eyes, and, of course, being a mother, Piper had picked up on this instantly. She always caught him rubbing at his tired eyes or letting out a long yawn lately. She didn't know why her son was so tired--he seemed to be getting a descent amount of sleep--but she was still worried none the less. She tended to worry a little too much about her children, she knew that, but she was a mother of two of the most powerful witches ever to be born, and that worry was to be expected.

The two stopped in from of her bedroom door and Chris turned to mumble a quick, "'Night mom." He hadn't really wanted to speak, the situation had felt so awkward and he'd rather not deal with his mother right then, but he felt the need to say something nice. She seemed so upset lately, and he knew that it was his fault. He didn't mean to make it seem like he didn't like her or anything; he just needed space, he guessed. Magic always surrounded him in this house and around his family, and the farther he was from it, the better he felt. He could never really escape it, but it felt good to be at a normal, teenage social event like a drinking party or sitting in the park with his two best friends, passing a joint between Landon and him--Zooey didn't smoke, she believed she couldn't risk her lungs.

Piper gave him a smile and replied, "'Night, Peanut."

Chris gave her a weak smile in return before turning and starting his way down the hallway and to his room. When Piper heard the door shut quietly behind him, she started her way into the room she shared with her husband. Leo was fast asleep, like most others would be at this hour, and Piper settled down into bed next to him. Her mind would not allow the peace of sleep just yet though, and she had to let her thoughts linger onto the one phrase that had been stuck in the back of her mind. She had been pondering on it before, feeling that the inevitable was surely coming, and now she felt like it really had. She had been hoping, praying, and convincing herself it wasn't true, but she knew now. The distance between them had grown so much, and it was hard for the two to even have a civilized conversation instead of just yelling at each other. She couldn't deny the truth any longer: she was really losing Chris.

She was _really_ losing her _son_.

* * *

Thank you all so much for reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

I hope you liked the chapter and I will try to get the next one finished as soon as possible.

In the meantime, please review! All of your lovely and long reviews get me hyped and writing!

Thanks again for reading!

:)


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, as usual!**

Thank you all so much for the reviews, I love to hear what you guys think! For some reason, this chapter seemed to stretch out to fourteen pages. Good for you guys, but terribly annoying for me due to editing. I hope you all like it though! :)

Enjoy!

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Wyatt drove his way out of his parking space and down the parking lot of his high school as the day ended. He was thankful when that last bell had rung and he was set free until the next tortuous day, but all of his plans had been ruined by a simple call from his mother. There had been a demon attack at Aunt Phoebe's--the demon being very similar to the demon that attacked them on Friday morning--and he and Chris were to pick up Peyton and Prudence from school to bring them straight the Aunt Phoebe's, where the rest of the family, excluding their parents, would be. His father was stuck at Magic School teaching a seminar on the proper ways to cast spells and how to go about writing them and his mother was stuck at work.

He pulled up to the curb near the back entrance to the school, where rows of metal picnic tables sat, and spotted his brother instantly. The young witch had not blocked him this afternoon, and he quickly sensed where the younger boy was. Chris was standing beside his two friends, the witch Zooey Daniels and the troublemaker best friend Landon Carraway. He had nothing against Zooey--he actually found the girl quite attractive, to be honest--but he didn't like Landon one bit. Landon seemed to get his brother into a hell of a lot of trouble and he always seemed to be the one who supplied Chris with alcohol. Carraway was invited to all of the drug-fueled parties and raves that went on around the cit, and Chris tended to join him on some of his many outings. The three of them seemed to be talking with another group of friends--people Wyatt recognized as acquaintances of his brother, but he couldn't really place a name to any of the faces. They were a part of the party scene that Landon was so actively involved in though, and he didn't like them just because of that.

Wyatt rolled down his window and honked his horn loud, grabbing the attention of his brother as well as his friends.

"Chris!" he called, watching as the younger Halliwell turned his head to give a look his way. He seemed rather peeved at his loud and abrupt call, but Wyatt didn't really care. He wanted to get his brother away from those friends of his as soon as possible.

Chris turned back to his friends and went back to talking with them, a few of the unfamiliar kids still looking up toward the car before turning their attention back to Chris. It seemed his brother had no intention of coming over to the car any time soon, and Wyatt let out an irritated grunt at this.

He waited for a few moments, hoping that his brother would use his common sense and come to the car before Wyatt could really embarrass him, but Chris didn't seem to budge. The younger Halliwell just kept on talking to his friends, a few of them looking back over towards Wyatt to see if he was still there every few seconds.

Wyatt slammed his palm hard on the horn, letting it blare continuously, causing Chris to turn his way, the boy wearing a matching look of irritation. His younger brother sent a death glare his way before turning back to his friends to hopefully say his goodbyes. Wyatt released the horn when he noticed Chris starting to turn his way and gripped the wheel instead, waiting somewhat patiently for his brother. One of the unfamiliar kids--a boy who looked to be about his age--grabbed his brother's arm and spoke up, causing Chris to turn back around. Wyatt watched the sketchy scene from his car, eyes catching on to the sudden movement of hands as Chris grabbed something very slyly from the other boy, wearing a grin. Wyatt had an idea as to what the mysterious object they had exchanged was and knew Chris would not have it in his possessions for much longer if he had anything to say about it.

Chris climbed into the passenger seat and greeted his older brother with an annoyed expression, "Do you have to be so obnoxious with the damn horn?" The younger Halliwell asked as he slammed the door shut and threw his backpack into the backseat.

"Well 'hi' to you too, little brother," Wyatt replied, voice dripping with sarcasm, "Glad to see you're in such a _great_ mood."

The boy's lips curled up into a smirk at this as he buckled up his seatbelt and settled back into the seat, "Well, my life is just so _gosh-darn_ _super_ right now," he replied, matching his brother's sarcasm equally, "I just _love_ having to be escorted home by my brother and locked up in an attic for hours on end."

"Well, lucky for you, we're not going home," Wyatt replied, noticing as his brother quickly perked up at the statement.

"We're not?" he asked, looking his older brother's way with an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Nope," Wyatt shook his head and adjusted his hands on the steering wheel, "there was a demon attack at Aunt Phoebe's," Chris let out a grunt at this and crossed his arms, eyes traveling over to the window. Wyatt continued on, "The rest of the family is already over there--except for mom and dad, they're still at work--and we're supposed to pick up Peyton and Prudence from school."

"Oh fun," Chris replied dryly. He actually wished he was cleaning the attic instead of going on demon duty at his aunt's house. He would take physical, non-magic related labor over potion making and demon scrying any day.

"Come on, Chris," Wyatt started with a sigh, "would it kill you to spend time with the family once in a while?" he asked, receiving a roll of the eyes from his brother, "We aren't _that _bad, and besides, our family is under attack, and I know you still care enough about them to want to protect them."

"I didn't say I was going to jump out of the car and let the demon kill them or anything," Chris replied before scoffing, "Jeez Wy, I never pictured you to be lecturing me about this stuff. That's more of a mom and dad thing to do." Chris reached out and flicked on the car stereo and began searching channels before continuing, "I'm coming with you. I'm in the car, buckled up, and I'm not pissed or about to storm out."

"Good," Wyatt nodded, watching as Chris' fingers changed the channel, whizzing by stations, causing the choppy and quick sound of different songs and static to mix together until he found a song he actually enjoyed. The kid had stopped on an old tune filled with harmonica and acoustic guitar, the voice of an old 60's singer blaring out of the speakers as Chris turned up the volume before he settled his back against the back of the seat.

"Are you ever going to put her into drive?" Chris asked after a few moments, turning his gaze his brother's way. They had gotten over the whole lecture and he had picked out a good station, so he had been ready to get going, but Wyatt hadn't made more than a quick move to place his hand on the gear stick. He was almost there, all he had to do was move it down to drive and they would be one step closer to getting the rest of the horrible day over with.

The day turned sour during math class. He had fallen into a quick vision, thankfully one of his childhood which involved a happier memory than the ones he'd been seeing lately. It was Wyatt's tenth birthday, meaning that he was eight. The family and a few sets of friends had all gathered at the Manor, and even his father had managed to make some room in his schedule for it--always for Wyatt, never for him--the other him, not him himself because his Leo, his _father_, he meant, always made room for both of them. His father never missed any birthday or school play, his father was not the man he was thinking of... Well, technically, he was, but it wasn't him, it was _another _him...

Oh, damn this shit, it was just all too confusing.

To put it simple: the vision was all happy and bright and cheerful, the only bad thing happening was that Leo--he meant dad--had forgotten to say goodbye to him. That had been when he was startled back awake by the voice of his irritating math teacher, Mrs. Bennett. Her prickly voice had rung through his ears, calling his name with annoyance and a hint of worry. He had collapsed onto the floor, falling out of his seat quickly after the vision had started. Chris had been quickly sent to the nurses office and he somehow convinced them that it had probably been because of his low blood sugar. He had informed the nosy nurse that he hadn't eaten that morning (which was a lie, he had eaten two pieces of toast and some scrambled egg) and the lack of food had caused him to faint. She bought it, and he was free to go after spending a period in the health room to rest.

Though the vision wasn't horrific and didn't last as long as most, he couldn't deny that things were getting serious. Passing out in the middle of class was bad and he couldn't go on using the low blood sugar excuse if it happened more and more. This was getting beyond his control, and all so fast. The pain was getting worse, he was having them during his waking hours now, and last night he had coughed up blood. _Blood. _It hadn't been fake, the taste he had felt tickle his taste-buds had ended up being real for a short instance. What would happen next? Would he wake up with an actual hole in his chest the next time he was shot in one of them? He really hoped not, because that would be a _little_ hard to explain to his parents.

"You want to hand over that joint, Chris?" Wyatt asked nonchalantly, snapping Chris back into reality and away from his thoughts. He had completely forgotten he was in the car with Wyatt. He hadn't been able to hide his shocked and guilty expression when Wyatt asked him the question, so he knew that he had pretty much taken away any chance he had of viably denying it.

"Don't know what you're talking about, Wyatt," he simply replied, trying anyway. He wanted to keep that joint, he had needed it desperately and had already planned to smoke it later that night while he was left to fume over his confusing visions. His hand rested on the pocket where the joint had been stuffed into, trying to hide any trace of it.

Wyatt rolled his eyes at this, "Come on, Chris. I saw that kid hand it over to you before you walked over here," Wyatt retorted as he stuck out his palm in the kid's direction, "Now, hand it over so I can toss it out of the car."

Chris sent a glare his way, his jade orbs meeting Wyatt's brown ones, both sending equally challenging stares each others way.

"Chris," Wyatt warned, never breaking eye contact with his brother as he began to speak, "This is my car, and I don't want that shit in my car," he paused for a moment before a smirk appeared on his features and he softened the intensity of his glare. He knew he had this won, "Besides, you wouldn't want me to tell mom and dad, would you?"

Chris instantly broke eye contact and blinked. He had forgotten about that little threat Wyatt could use against him. If his parents--if his _mother_--ever found out about his little illegal habits she'd blow him into pieces. She didn't tolerate that kind of stuff, and neither did his father.

"Dammit," Chris cursed, digging his hand into his pocket and handing Wyatt over the nicely rolled joint.

"Good choice, little brother," Wyatt replied with a smirk, flicking the stick that was stuffed full of illegal herb out of the window and onto the black, grainy cement.

He put the car into drive and zoomed out of the parking lot, noticing the time. They'd be late to pick up the twins at this rate. Though most of the time he would be annoyed with having to pick up his cousins, he was somewhat thankful for the little errand this time. It would give Peyton some time to go through Chris' thoughts a little, take a small peek inside and sort her way to some real answers.

He glanced over towards his brother, the boy staring out of the window with little interest, mind off somewhere else again. Chris was like this a lot; distant and drifty. It was like whenever he talked with him Chris' mind was just somewhere else, stuck on some thought or problem that he was bent on keeping secret from everyone. It seemed like his brother was keeping so many secrets lately, and he never remembered him being so secretive before. It was a complete personality shift for him. Eight months ago--almost nine now--he wasn't like this at all. It started slowly. Chris spent less and less time with him, he started skipping out on family dinners, started declaring a stronger hate for magic. The little things like that quickly shifted into big ones. He started drinking, doing drugs, staying out all night with Landon, snapping at their parents, avoiding any family related event like it was the plague. He turned into the secretive, paranoid, neurotic little brother that now sat next to him in his jeep.

Wyatt pulled up in front of the middle school and quickly spotted Prudence and Peyton standing near the entrance, the twins both chatting with one another about something magical, though there were no mouths moving. He could tell be the way they looked up at each other every once in a while that they were using their bond. He and Chris did the same thing when they chatted with each other inside their heads. He and Chris shared a stronger bond than the twins though. The twins were limited to telepathy, while he and Chris could sometimes feel what each other was feeling, sense each other and get an exact location of where one another was, and even sometimes pick up on thoughts. The thoughts were rare though, and Wyatt had only picked up on it once, when he was very little. Chris had been pushed down on the playground from off of the slide and Wyatt had been infuriated. His father was taking care of his brother's skinned knees as the little boy cried and cried, face red and wet, and Wyatt had placed a hand on his little brother's shoulder, trying to help his father comfort him. He had somehow got a glance of what his brother was thinking, and saw the vicious little boy that had pushed him down. That mean kid got two skinned knees of his own, as well as a scrapped elbow and a red, tear-filled face to go with it. No one was allowed to hurt his little brother, no one. He had been very protective of Chris back then, and he still was now.

Peyton and Prudence noticed the jeep and quickly made their way to the car, sliding into the back seat.

"Hey Chris, hey Wyatt," Peyton and Prudence greeted with a smile simultaneously. They tended to do that a lot. The whole speaking the same sentences together thing had been something the family was forced to get used to.

"_That still creeps me out to no end," _Chris sent his comment to Wyatt as Peyton threw his backpack back up front, complaining that there wasn't enough room. The oldest Halliwell looked his brother's way and let out a laugh, agreeing.

"_I'm right with you on that one," _Wyatt replied with a grin, thankful that Peyton wasn't trying to read Chris' mind at the moment; if she heard what they were thinking she'd be pissed.

"Hey!" Prudence exclaimed, catching onto what the two brothers were doing, "Don't talk about us in your heads!"

Chris began digging through his backpack as he responded, "It's not like you two don't do it," his hand landed on the object of his desire and he pulled out his pack of cigarettes with a grin.

Wyatt had started the car again and was focused on getting the four of them to Aunt Phoebe's where the demon hunt--which he was rather excited for--would begin. He knew that he and Chris would probably be given a lot to do this time and there would be a lot of fighting for them. Their aunts and parents had been training them for demon hunts since Chris turned thirteen, deeming them ready to learn and fight. The other cousins wouldn't be doing much fighting, and the next generation of Charmed children would be led by Chris and him; they were the most powerful and the oldest.

"Could you not, Chris?" Prudence asked from the back seat, arms crossed. She and Peyton both shared a hate for smoking. Though Prudence was more shy, she still wasn't afraid to speak her mind when it came to family.

Chris placed the stick in his mouth and rolled down the window, ignoring his younger cousin for a moment, "Sorry," he replied, lighting the stick with his lighter and taking a drag, "too late."

Wyatt picked up on the scent and quickly turned his gaze to his brother, temper rising,

"So," he started, eyes still on the road, "when I was talking about not wanting certain _shit _in my car, I was referring to all things smokable." He didn't want his car to smell like cigarette smoke, and he didn't want the rest of the passengers, including Chris, to smell like it when they got to their aunts house. Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige would pick up on it: they used to do it themselves during their teenage years.

"Just_ one_ cigarette," Chris begged, looking over to his brother while taking another drag. He needed it, he really did. If he was going to be forced to demon hunt for hours that day, then he needed to get at least one smoke in before the chaos began.

"Throw it out the window or I'll blow it up," Wyatt warned, glancing quickly over to his brother, not wanting to take his eyes off the road for too long.

Peyton took this as a great cue to start letting her guard down and focus in on Chris' thoughts. He'd be a little distracted and she could dig her way through without him noticing. He was good at picking up when she was inside his head, he could feel it. She stared at him and shut her eyes, letting the thoughts flood into her head: _Just one goddamn cigarette ... Ican'tdealwiththis_shit_anymore ... such an asshole ... allthepain ... he threw out my joint and now he's trying to take away my one other comfort?... passedoutduring ... Dammit Wyatt ... LordWyattisnot_my_Wyatt. Dadalwaysfavoredhimoverme ... not fair, screw this ... what a waste of a good cigarette ... what the heck...? Peyton?_

Chris turned his head and sent a glare her way, and Peyton quickly put back up her guard. She was almost thankful that he found out. His thoughts had been so jumbled and it was starting to give her a headache. She wouldn't have been able to stop reading them though. The oddness to them just intrigued her, and as she fought her way through to the hidden and quick ones, her curiosity just grew.

Chris turned his head back to the front as Wyatt pulled up to Aunt Phoebe's house and placed the car into park. The four Halliwell's climbed out of the car and made their way to the door, Chris stopping a few feet near the stoop to pull out yet another cigarette. The twins made their way inside, but Wyatt stopped when he noticed his brother not following swiftly behind him like he should be.

Wyatt met the boy with a peeved expression as he caught yet another cigarette grasped between two fingers and made his way over to Chris, grabbing his shirt sleeve and tugging hard, "Later, Chris," he insisted with an irked tone.

"Dammit Wyatt," Chris started, "I _need_ a smoke."

"There's always after we take care of this demon mess," the elder brother responded as he dragged Chris into the foyer, the boy quickly stuffing the cigarette into his pocket so no aunt or uncle could spot it.

Chris forcefully shrugged out of his brother's grip and the two stopped to face each other in the hallway, both wearing challenging glares. "The reason I _need_ a damn smoke is because of--"

"Well, if it isn't my two favorite nephews," Chris and Wyatt quickly went wide eyed and turned to look towards their Aunt Paige, who was standing with her arms crossed in the door frame, wearing an all knowing smile.

The two mustered up smiles and greeted their aunt, pushing away their bickering for a later time.

Paige led her two nephews into the living room where the rest of the cousins had gathered. The younger cousins were settled in front of the TV, watching some cartoon with no care in the world when it came to the situation at hand. Chris wished he could be like them, not having to worry about demon attacks or anything magic related that was a nuisance. When he was younger he was allowed to lead a somewhat more normal life, just like his cousins were now, and he wished he was still leading that life.

Peyton and Prudence had settled next to Uncle Henry, who was always set in charge of watching the children while the rest of the family dealt with the demon. The twins would scry or make a few potions occasionally, but since they really had no active powers that could help in a fight, they weren't really involved. It was always only Wyatt and Chris who would have to demon hunt. They were the most powerful and they were the oldest. It wasn't fair in Chris' eyes, but he dealt with it. His family needed help and he wouldn't turn them down. Just because he didn't want to be around them doesn't mean he doesn't _care_ about them.

Aunt Phoebe and Uncle Coop were standing near the island in the kitchen when the three other Halliwells entered. There was a map open and spread out on top of the island and a scrying crystal and dagger lying on top of it. That had been the dagger that had been stabbed into Chris' shoulder; he remembered it well. The carvings on the handle, the sharpness of the blade--every detail. Wyatt had--no, not Wyatt, the demon. Wyatt had not done that to him, at least not in real life. That dagger belonged to some sickening, demented demon,_ not _his brother.

Coop and Phoebe looked up as the three other witches walked in and gave their nephews smiles as a quick greeting.

Wyatt quickly started up his questioning, energized and ready to get started on the demon hunt. He enjoyed demon hunting, unlike his brother, "So, what do you know so far about the demon?" he asked.

"Not much," Phoebe confessed as she slid into one of the stools near the island, "we know it's from the same coven as the one that attacked you guys earlier."

"He was less sloppy than the first one, though," Paige chimed in, having knowledge of both of the attacks due to the fact she was called in during the second one as well, "The one that attacked the manor was pretty much just throwing out attacks and daggers left and right. He got a lucky shot when he got you in the arm, Chris." She looked over to the young witch, who had made his way over to the scrying map and was staring at the dagger on top.

"It wasn't a lucky shot," Chris replied, looking up from the dagger for a few seconds before looking back down, "if I hadn't moved he would have gotten my heart." He resisted the urge to grab the weapon and hold it in his hands: the weapon that both a demon and his own brother had stabbed him with. He found the whole situation odd still. Seeing that vision and having a dagger with the same poison hit him in the same spot after waking up... Maybe he had seen the vision for a reason, maybe he was shown it so he would know how to save himself.

Phoebe instantly sensed his discomfort at seeing the weapon again and almost cursed herself for leaving it out like that. She was used to using weapons that had almost killed her to scry--there had been many daggers stabbed into her arms over the years--but Chris wasn't. Wyatt and Chris were still new to it all. Though they'd been dealing with powers and demons since they were kids, they hadn't had many near death experiences with it. They were both still kids, young witches that were still learning how to do the things she and her sisters had known how to do for years now.

There had been a silence after Chris' statement, the whole room completely clueless on what to say after it. Chris kept his eyes on the dagger and Wyatt had let his own pair of orbs drift its way as well. The older boy had a hint of rage shining behind those eyes though, and Phoebe instantly picked up on it. He wanted to find those demons and eliminate them all for what the one had done to Chris. Phoebe couldn't help but lift her lips into a small smile at this. Wyatt was protective of his brother and truly had turned out to be the older brother they had all imagined him to be. The Chris that had come back in time had succeeded and given himself the brother he always deserved, the brother Wyatt was always destined to become. Whenever Phoebe saw this she knew Chris' death hadn't been all in vain. He had really changed Wyatt, he had turned him into the man he was supposed to become.

Phoebe shared a look with her husband, noting the smile that had seemed to fall over his features as well. They both had sensed that feeling off of Wyatt and had shared similar thoughts about it.

"Have you checked the Book?" Wyatt asked, looking up at his Aunt Paige then over to his Aunt Phoebe.

"No," Paige started, Chris' gaze landing on them with a hint of interest, "we were about to go do that though."

"We'll do it," Chris stated, looking over to his brother, then back to his aunt, hand still tingling with the sensation to grab the dagger. His eyes travelled back down to it once more. It fascinated him, that dagger. It had almost killed him in two different instances--one real and one ... well, he didn't know what to consider the visions to be. They weren't real but they didn't feel completely fake either. He didn't want to feel anymore confused than he already had that day so he decided to put that thought on the back burner for a while. "Keep scrying for the coven while we're gone." He told them.

Chris couldn't resist the urge anymore and he lifted up the dagger, gripping the handle and feeling the cravings against the soft skin of his fingers. He turned it and watched it glimmer in the light, catching one of his jade eyes in the clean, shiny metal.

"_Do it, Christopher, do it," Wyatt's rough, malicious voice ran through his ears as the Dark Lord shined a sickening smirk._ _He had him pinned down to the ground, hand gripping hard onto a sharp and shinning dagger, holding the blade extremely close to his brother's throat, "Kill me."_

_Chris pushed the dagger closer to his skin, the point lightly digging into his brother's pale, rough neck. His features were contorted and wrinkled in anger and hate, knuckles white due to his hard grip on the small dagger. Wyatt just kept on smiling though, his features showing no fear or pain, eyes sending him a challenging and amused glare._

"_Why are you hesitating, Christopher?" Wyatt asked, "You've finally got me where you want me: pinned down to the ground, a knife to my throat." _

_Chris gripped the knife tighter._

"_I thought you hated me, Christopher? I thought you wanted me dead, you said you wanted revenge for what I've done to the family, all of the innocent lives that I took." He paused, smile still gracing his features, before continuing, "This is it, Christopher. All you have to do it slid this blade across my neck, and it will be all over. My rule--or tyranny, as you so often refer to it--will be over with a swift motion of your wrist." _

_Chris' features tightened even more, but the knife kept its place, gently poking at his brother's skin._

"_Do it," Wyatt repeated, "Do it--_Chris, Chris! What the hell ... Chris picked up on Wyatt's confused and worried voice ringing through his ears, but he didn't know how to get out of his vision.

"_You can't--_Maybe a premonition ...? Aunt Paige's voice chimed in quickly and he felt her hand rub against his arm. Aunt Paige was dead though. No, that was for the other him. Aunt Paige was alive ... right?_--Can you?" Wyatt wore that smirk with pride and confidence, knowing full well that his brother could not kill him. He couldn't kill Chris either, and for the same reason too. They were family, and they both cared too much for each other. Chris was the only thing that mattered to him anymore, and he was the only family Chris really had left._

_Chris dropped the dagger onto the ground and released his brother from his grip. The two stood up--one looking extremely defeated and angry while the other wore a satisfied and victorious grin._

"_Don't seem so down, Christopher," Wyatt replied, "that was rather impressive. You managed to get the advantage over _me_--_When will he snap out of it? Uncle Coop's voice this time, laced with worry and curiosity. Chris moved his hands about, trying to grab onto something, anything, and felt his hand rub against the fabric of someone's shirt. He quickly grabbed on and forced himself to focus on it. The soft feel the cotton, the thinness of the material...

His eyes snapped open and he instantly met the gaze of his Aunt Phoebe. His hand was clinging onto her shirt, stretching out the fabric as he pulled it. He had fallen to the floor at some point and the rest of rooms occupants were surrounding him. Wyatt and Uncle Coop were kneeling down at his sides--they must have caught him before he collapsed, he assumed, since he had somehow managed to land leaning against a row of cabinets. Aunt Paige was kneeling down next to Phoebe, her hand resting on his shoulder. They all shared the same worried look, except for Phoebe. She wore a comforting smile--something that he felt he needed right about then--but the worry could be caught lingering in her gaze.

"Are you alright?" Paige asked as Chris pushed his way from off the ground and back into a standing position, the others quickly doing the same.

"Yeah," he replied, bring a hand up to rub at his temples as he shut his eyes._ Blood, so much blood. He was bleeding out from his shoulder, the wound gushing with crimson red. Wyatt had left him in that cell, left him there to suffer through the pain from his wounds and the poison until he either called out for him and agreed to join him or until his brother came back before the poison had time to kill him and healed him, readying him to start the torture process once again. _

No, he was not going back in there, not again. Chris opened his eyes and stumbled, feeling his Uncle Coop's sturdy hand quickly grab onto his upper arm to keep him up.

His Aunt Phoebe had squealed his name as he lost his balance and she quickly directed Coop to sit him down at the table. He was slid into a chair and he quickly rested his head in his hand, keeping it propped up by resting his elbow on the table.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Phoebe asked, sliding down into the seat next to him and placing her hand onto his free one, trying to comfort him. She could feel he was in pain and he was desperately confused and scared. His emotions were pouring out of him like a raging flood and she couldn't help but take them all in, "What did you see?"

"I don't know," he responded, finally opening his eyes and looking up at his aunt. He had managed to regain control and to keep himself grounded in reality for the moment. His aunt's gentle hold on his hand had really helped with that, and he was really thankful for it. Though he was probably drowning her with emotions he'd rather keep a secret, she had saved him from falling back into another vision.

Chris stood up from his seat, all three of the adults in the room quickly ready to catch him in case he started to collapse again. Chris didn't stumble this time though and he seemed to be fine once again, much to their relief. The younger Halliwell quickly went over to his brother and grabbed his arm, "Let's go check the Book for that demon coven."

"Chris--" Paige started, bemused and curious as to what the hell her nephew had just seen in his premonition. She was cut off as the two brothers disappeared in a swirl of blue and white orbs.

The three adults shared looks filled with worry and curiosity before Paige voiced the question that had been on all of their minds, "Okay, what the _hell _just happened?"

* * *

"Are you going to tell me what you saw?" Wyatt asked, watching as his brother flipped through the Book in search of the demon.

"The demon had horns, right?" Chris responded with a question instead of an answer, eyes never leaving the Book as his eyes glanced over the picture and words on a page.

"What?" Wyatt replied, taken back for a moment. He had expected an answer or sarcastic reply to his inquiry, not a question. "Yeah, it had horns. But Chris, what did you _see_?"

"This isn't the demon then," Chris flipped past the page and started his search again, avoiding Wyatt's questions purposefully and obviously. He was hopping the older boy would take the hint and just drop the subject, but he highly doubted it. Wyatt felt he had the right to know _everything_, apparently.

"Stop avoiding the question and answer me," the older Hallwiell said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall as he watched his brother continue his search through the Book.

"I already said, 'I don't know.'" Chris replied with a harshness to his voice, eyes still scanning over the pages, trying to find the demon as he fought off his brother's nosy questions.

"What do you mean you 'don't know?'" Wyatt retorted as he crossed his arms, "You know what you saw Chris, you just won't tell me."

"Yes, Wyatt, yes!" Chris slammed his hands on the page he was on and turned his head to send his brother an irritated look, "I'm entitled to keep a few secrets, aren't I?"

"You've been keeping a hell of a lot more than a few, Chris," he pointed out, much to his brother's annoyance, "You don't tell anybody _anything_ anymore."

Chris turned his body completely and faced Wyatt, arms crossed and expression showing he was ready to fight, "Well, maybe that's because it's none of your business!" God, why was everybody so damn nosy in his family? First, his parents are harassing him, then Peyton and Aunt Phoebe, and now Wyatt? Come on, couldn't he catch a damn break?

"Chris--" Wyatt started, but was quickly cut off by his angry little brother.

"No, Wyatt," Chris' voice was harsh and rough, filled with anger and annoyance, "Listen to me. Just because you're my brother doesn't mean you're entitled to know everything about me! If I want to keep some things a secret, then I can!"

"Chris--" Wyatt tried again, but Chris interrupted him, not yet done with his rant.

"I don't need you nosing around in my business. I already have mom and dad to worry about, I don't need to add you to the list," he told his brother, pointing a finger his way as he took a few steps closer to him, "What I saw doesn't involve you or anyone so you don't need to know about it! You'll just have to deal with that and no matter how much you bug me about it I won't tell you _anything_."

"Chris!" Wyatt screamed, his hands going up, ready to fight.

Chris was a little taken back by this, and in defense he curled up his fists to ready himself to fight back. Chris noted his brother's eyes weren't on him though, but on some point behind him. He didn't fully register what was happening until he heard his brother scream, "Demon!"

Chris quickly turned and found himself practically face to face with the demon. It smiled at him maliciously, horns prodding out of its head and curving straight up to the sky. The demon quickly pulled out a dagger and went to stab him, but Chris swiftly grabbed his arm and stopped the demon from pushing the knife into his chest. He used his free hand to punch the demon, using his telekinesis to add on to the force, causing the demon to stumble back.

Wyatt sent the malicious demon flying into the wall with a thud after that and the two brothers quickly met each other's gaze. Wyatt had on a smirk, rather excited and pumped for the fight. This was his favorite part of demon hunting: kicking some serious ass.

Wyatt readied an energy ball while Chris kept his hands raised somewhat, ready to fling the demon back if necessary. They watched as the demon stumbled back to his feet and the two brother quickly charged.

Wyatt sent an energy ball flying straight into the demon's chest with a swift movement of his arm while Chris called out to the dagger that the demon had dropped onto the ground. Once it appeared from the swirl of blue and white in his hand he gripped it tightly and turned to watch his brother dodge as the demon sent a strong punch his way.

Chris went to throw the dagger into the demon's chest, but was stopped when he felt a clammy hand grab onto his wrist from behind. He caught the face of another demon who seemed to have shimmered in to join the fight and felt a hard tug as the demon grabbed his other arm. Chris began to fight to free his arm, elbowing the demon in the stomach over and over, but it just didn't seem to really affect him. Chris sent one last hard elbow into the demon's ribs and felt him suddenly release his grip, letting out a wail as his elbow collided into him. Chris felt a weird surge flow throughout his body, like 1000 volts of electricity had been shot through him, but didn't feel any pain.

He turned around to face the demon, watching as it stumbled back, body shaking and convoluting from the shock he had received, and Chris quickly sent the dagger his way. Along with the dagger went a cracking electric spark from his hands, and the demon exploded in flames as the dagger hit his heart.

Chris looked down at his hands, eyes wide, as he spotted sparks of electricity coming out sporadically and quick. The sparks came out from everywhere and travelled their way around his hands and Chris felt his anger rise. _Dammit_, a large spark of electricity swirled around his hands, causing him to jump back. He gained a new power.

"Holy shit!" Wyatt exclaimed as he made his way to his brother after stabbing the other demon with his own dagger. He wore a smile as he spotted the swirls of electricity that traveled around his brother's hands, "That is so cool!"

"No," Chris shook his head, jumping back a little as his hands released a large amount of electricity, "it's not cool, Wyatt. This is bad." He looked up to his brother, peeved and a little frightened. He did not need this right now. He was already dealing with so much crap, he did not need a new, uncontrollable, power thrown onto him. Now he'd have to spend weeks learning how to control this with his father while trying to keep his visions from driving him insane and keep them from happened during his waking hours. He had never seen any other witches with a power like this before, so he had a hunch that this was an Elder or Whitelighter power. That would make this even _harder_ to control. What a _great_ day he seemed to be having.

The sparks shot out of his hands again, causing both him and Wyatt to flinch back. The rush of footsteps could be heard charging up the stairs and both Chris and his brother turned to find their parents standing in the doorway, looking rather worried until they spotted the two of them safe and unscratched. Their eyes quickly snapped down to Chris' hands and his father grew a smile while his mother stared with interest.

"Electrokinesis," his father stated, Chris glancing up at him for a moment before turning his gaze back down to the crackling sparks that continued to sporadically burst from his hands, "you gained a new power."

Chris sent a glare his father's way, showing the man--as well as his mother--how much he hated that fact. His hands let out a wild burst of electricity, causing all four of them to go wide-eyed. Wyatt quickly backed away, somewhat frightened but equally fascinated.

"How do I make it stop?!" Chris asked as he turned his head to glance at his father, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and fear.

"You just need to calm down, alright Chris?" Leo advised his son, taking a few steps closer into the room, Piper following swiftly behind, "You know that your powers are linked to your emotions until you learn how to control them better, so just calm down and it should stop."

The family watched as Chris turned his head back towards his hands, all eyes watching the sparks that flew out. Chris took a deep breath, focusing on calming down and praying that the electricity would stop bursting from his hands. The sparks settled and thankfully disappeared after a few moments, the young witch letting out a sigh of relief.

"Good," Leo told his son as he made his way up to the boy, "your one step closer to gaining control of it. We'll start training tomorrow."

Chris' features quickly contorted to an expression of annoyance and anger, a sudden burst of electricity surging from his hands, causing Leo to quickly take a step back.

Chris let out a grunt at this and focused once more on stopping the sparks. After one last explosion of electricity, the sparks finally vanished. Well, for then, at least.

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Thank you all for reading and I hope you review! :)

Next chapter will be up as soon as possible, but who knows when that will be due to my terrible work schedule. Good news is my last day of work is the 22nd so I'll have SO much more free time to write and photograph and draw and paint! I promise it will be up before Christmas--I hope to get two more chapters up before then.

Thanks again for reading, and please review!

:)


	10. Chapter 10

**Declaimer: I own nothing except my own ideas!**

Thank you all SO much for the amazing reviews for last chapter; I am so glad you all liked it! The massive amount of snow we're getting where I live has given me the time to edit this chapter (which is around 11 pages, I believe) and I hope you all like it!

Enjoy!

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The house was empty that Thursday afternoon, Wyatt off at school and Leo and Piper off at work, except for Chris. After gaining that ever so _amazing_ power, he had been forced to stay home from school and train with his father twice a day--one time with just only his father and the other with his father and the Elder Sandra. There was no way he could possibly go to school when his power was still so uncontrollable. Any change in mood could instantly cause the sparks to fly out, and they didn't want that. Not only would he expose that terrible thing called magic, but he could possibly hurt someone as well. That was the usual procedure for new power gain though. He stayed home from school until he had enough control over the ability, he trained with his father (the know-it-all when it came to any Whitelighter or Elder power) twice a day at magic school, and otherwise just stayed cooped up in the house. After four days of confinement and only a few slips outside to have a quick smoke, Chris was starting to feel like he was getting cabin fever. If the visions didn't make him go insane, he thought, then surely the confinement would.

After searching through channels on the TV and finding nothing that suited his fancy, Chris had stumbled into the sun room. His eyes landed straight on the piano, sitting off towards the windows, slanted at an angle, the black lid covering the keys from sight. You could see the dust that was powdering over the surface from neglect and abandonment. That piano used to be his life; there was never a day where he would not play it. He started when he was around seven and stuck with it for years, his skill improving with each note played. His mother and father had quickly noticed his talent for it and encouraged and praised him. It made him feel good. Wyatt had never been musically talented and when the older boy noticed his skill and could not match it, he seemed peeved. Chris couldn't believe it: he was better at something than the Twice-Blessed. There was something he could do that Wyatt couldn't do better, and that feeling was amazing. Ever since they were children, Chris had shared a bit of an inferiority complex with his brother. Wyatt was the all powerful, all great, Twice-Blessed golden boy who had powers galore. He had gotten his first power when he was around three--orbing, of course--and the rest of his powers were gained sporadically throughout his childhood. Though getting a power at such a young age was rare and showed that he, too, was a rather powerful witch, Wyatt always seemed to be obtaining more powerful and eye catching powers than he was. Chris was thankful he had found the piano and would always love it.

Chris slid his fingers over the lid, tracing out streaks through the light dust that covered it. The last time he had played it--with Patricia--had been the first time he had played in months. When he had begun pounding out a song on those keys he felt like he had travelled back to eight months ago. Eight months ago he had time to play, he wasn't seeing the things he saw now whenever he shut his eye, he was happy. Eight months ago everything had just been so normal--well, as normal as it could be for a witch--and he missed it more than ever. Why was this happening to him? Why did he have to see these terrible things and feel those horrific pains repeatedly everyday? It wasn't fair, these vision were stealing everything away from him. His life, any normalcy he had achieved, his _sanity._

No, he would not think about that right then. He wasn't stuck in one of those visions right then, he was alone in the Manor, and he was standing in front of a piano. _His _piano. He was going to play, he was going to sit there and pretend that nothing was wrong because he deserved at least a little bit of normalcy in his life right about then. If he couldn't have his alcohol and drugs to help him escape, then he could use this piano like he used to, before everything had gotten so bad.

Chris slid into the seat and lifted up the top, exposing the black and white keys to the light. His fingers brushed over white keys that shined in the sunlight. He brought up his other hand and rested both on different combinations of keys, remembering a song he used to love to play. He pressed down on the keys, producing the first set of notes, then glided his hands to the next.

He remembered when he had first made up the song--it had been when he was eleven, he believed. He had been fiddling with the piano--like he used to do so often at that age--and started up on a quick combination of notes that he liked. He quickly wrote it down onto a music sheet and started adding more each day. Every moment of his free time had been devoted to finishing the song and making sure that each note fit perfectly in it. There were many rough drafts of the song created and he had spent months working and throwing away different versions of it. When he finally created the song he had always pictured it to become--starting off somewhat slow and suddenly bursting with fast paced notes and a more upbeat tone--he had gathered the whole family around with excitement during a Friday night dinner. He remembered how all of his aunts and uncles had praised him and how his mother had given him that proud look and warm, loving smile. His father had been proud as well, and he wore this look of pride when he told the boy how great he thought it was. That praise had made him feel so good, it had made him feel like he was something, actually something. No, he wasn't the Twice-Blessed, he wasn't gaining massively strong powers that caused his father to smile with pride, but he was producing the same smile from his father and mother when he pressed the keys of a piano. Though his performance was quickly pushed aside a day later when Wyatt gained a new power--molecular combustion--he still felt so good about it, and to that day he still remembered it as one of the proudest moments of his life.

The song picked up pace as Chris started to pound on the keys harder and faster, and he could no longer contain the smile that stretched itself across his lips. God, he had missed this feeling. The way he felt when pressing down against those keys, the music tingling inside of his fingers as each note came out sounding proud and vibrant and strong. Playing made him happy, it made him feel good. He had missed feeling happy; it felt so foreign to him now. After months and months of these terrible visions that still plagued him to the day the whole idea of being happy just felt so _odd_ to him, and that wasn't right. Being happy shouldn't feel so weird, smiling shouldn't be such an awkward thing to him. He missed eight months ago, when he was wasn't dealing with this shit and he was just as normal as a witch could be. He missed being happy. He wished he could figure out a way to make it all stop, to make those painful visions leave him alone, stop confusing him and bringing him close to the edge of sanity. He was truly afraid that he would really lose it if they didn't stop. He could see himself ending up in some mental hospital, mumbling crazy jumbled sentences about how _Lord_ _Wyatt_ was going to find him. That scared him more than anything--if he could imagine it, then didn't that mean that it could really come true?

Chris slammed down hard as he played the note, a sudden burst of electricity startling him as it exploded from his hands. He quickly stopped playing and stared at his hands, watching as the sparks shot out before quickly settling down and disappearing. Thankfully the bursts weren't as frequent as they first had been--any unsettling emotion would set it off--but it was still an annoyance. Three days of training and he had at least learned how to keep it back unless he was just a little too upset.

"Chris," The call caused the boy to slide around on the stool and face the doorway to the sunroom. When his mother came into view she greeted him with a warm smile. She had heard the piano coming in--a sound that was rarely heard in her house anymore--and had quickly guessed who was playing it. She had not seen her son sitting at the bench in ages, and seeing him there now brought a wide smile to her face. He was just so good at it, and she really missed hearing the smooth sound of a piano traveling its way around the house.

"Why'd you stop playing?" she asked her son.

The fact that his mother had heard him playing that old song made him feel somewhat uncomfortable, and he couldn't explain why. His rare sessions with the piano felt very intimate to him now and it felt like his mother had invaded his privacy somewhat; and besides, he knew what she was thinking about when he heard those chords. She was thinking about how he used to be eight months ago, when that piano was heard daily, before he started with the drinking and the shunning of the family. She didn't know that he drank--well, he believed she didn't--but she probably had an idea. His mother was friends with Officer Darryl, and Darryl had busted many of the parties that he and Landon had been to, he even arrested Landon once. Darryl would not hesitate to tell his mother that information--he knew that Landon was his good friend--and would lead her into suspicions. He had actually been rather close to being busted at those parties by Darryl, and if Darryl had brought him home to his mother ... he didn't even want to think of what would happen to him if that ever happened. He was thankful he was always able to orb himself out of there after getting far enough from the other party goers and into a back alley. Though his orbing really was off when he was drunk, he always landed somewhere far off from the scene of the crime. Hopefully he would never be caught by Darryl.

Chris turned and quickly flipped the lid back down on the piano, covering the black and white keys and engulfing them in darkness, "My power acted up," he told his mother as he turned back her way.

"Why aren't you at work?" he asked her. His mother's shift was not supposed to end till around 3:30 that day.

"I just came to check up on you," she explained to him, receiving a rather peeved look from Chris. He hated being checked up on. She had sent Phoebe and Paige the days before, and from what the two had told her, Chris seemed rather angry with their presence. Phoebe could feel it and, well, Paige had seen it. Electricity had been bursting from his hands even though he tried to keep himself looking calm. It was hard to hide his emotions when he had a power that uncontrollable.

"I'm sixteen mom," Chris reminded her as he stood from his seat, "I don't need to be checked up on. I can take care of myself, and it's not like I could really leave the house with electricity bursting from my hands all the time."

"I thought you had gained a little more control over that," Piper said, bemused. Leo had told her Chris was making great progress, and rather fast too. The bursts were less frequent now, and it seemed he could keep his power unconnected to his emotions. She knew he still had some time to go before he learned how to control it completely, but her husband had expressed how well he thought Chris was doing with it, given its strength.

"Yeah," Chris nodded, before giving a shrug, "it still happens sometimes though."

Piper nodded at this, and a sudden awkward silence seemed to fall over the two. That was a common thing between them now, and Piper hated that. Whenever they talked, things just seemed so awkward for her son, and he seemed desperate to just get out of the room. She tried not to take it personally--he seemed to be that way with everyone at some point in the day--but she could not hide her hurt. She hated how strained her relationship with her son had become. He had become so secretive now, and acted as if he couldn't trust anyone--not even family. She was starting to see bits of the other Chris--the one who had come back from that terrible future--in her own Chris. It had taken ages for the other Chris to stop keeping all of those hefty secrets, and she was afraid that her Chris was keeping a few hefty secrets himself.

"Well," Chris started, grabbing his mother's attention as he crossed his arms, "I've been checked up on, you can go back to work now," His mother sent him a look, giving him a warning about his attitude and the fact that he was being rude, so the boy quickly added, "if you want."

"Have you eaten yet?" Piper asked her youngest child, the boy giving a raised eyebrow and taking on a bemused expression at the question.

"No," he replied simply.

She turned and started her way to the other side of the house, "Come on then," she called as she walked, listening for the scuffling of her son's steps behind her, "I'll make you some lunch."

Chris quickly made his way close behind her and spoke up, "You don't have to--"

"Chris," Piper cut him off, speaking his name with a sort of gentle harshness, giving him yet another warning to keep his mouth shut and to just let her make him some food, "I want to."

Chris obliged and kept his mouth shut. It wouldn't be that bad, he supposed. The last few days had consisted of poorly made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches--he was not the best when it came to preparing food--and something made by his mother sounded rather good. Though he would rather be on his own right then, free to just sit and think about how he would solve all of the problems life seemed to be stacking up on his plate right then, he could deal with his mother's cooking and her presence for a little while. It wasn't that terrible of a thing.

Chris slid into a chair at the table and watched as his mother made her way over to the refrigerator. She started digging through drawers, looking for some idea of what to make.

"Does grilled cheese sound alright to you?" she asked, peering her head out of the refrigerator to look at her son.

"Yeah," Chris gave a nod and watched as her head quickly disappeared back into the fridge before appearing with a stack of sliced cheese and a stick of butter. He watched as she busied herself with preparing the sandwich, pulling out the bread and laying an even thin coating of butter on the two pieces. She placed two pieces of cheese in between the bread and placed it on a hot frying pan. There was a sizzle as the greasy butter met the heat, but it soon died down and Piper grabbed up a turner.

"How's training with your father?" Piper asked, breaking the palpable silence that had seemed to fall over the room.

Chris looked up her way and responded, "Fine," he gave a shrug, "I wish I didn't have this stupid new power though." His eyes travelled down to his hands, as if he was waiting for the devilish power to show itself once again.

Piper glanced towards her son before turning her gaze back to the sandwich, filled with empathy. She really felt for Chris, she understood why he didn't want a power that was that strong and so hard to control. She understood why he hated it. He wanted to have a normal life--just like she and all of her sisters had wanted--and it was hard to be normal when he could shoot electricity from his hands, "I know," she replied with understanding, looking up towards her son and giving him a comforting smile, "It will get better though."

Things would get better? Chris had to hold back a harsh laugh at that statement. The way he saw it, things would only get worse. That seemed to be the case with his visions and everything around him. The pain he felt from the visions was getting worse, his relationship with his family was getting worse, his life was getting worse; everything just seemed to be growing more and more unbearable and he felt like he was just going to snap. There was just too much going on, too much for him to handle all alone, but he could not tell anyone. He _would_ not tell anyone.

"Right," he replied with an unbelieving tone. His mother had picked up on it as she flipped the sandwich over to the other side to allow that piece of bread to brown. She looked up at her youngest son and met his jade eyes, wearing the most comforting look she could.

"It really does get better, Peanut," she assured her son, knowing full well he still was probably unbelieving, but she had to give it a shot, "Being a witch is tough, especially for a Halliwell, but things _will_ get better," she paused to check on the sandwich, "There were times when I felt the same way you do, same with your aunts. You are still a normal teenager Chris, you're just a little more..." she stopped, trying to find the right word for it. She gave her son a smile, "special."

Piper slid her turner under the sandwich and lifted it onto a plate before turning off the burner and bringing the plate to her son.

"I don't want to be special," Chris told his mother with a hint of resentment as she placed the plate in front of him. Piper sat down beside him and watched as he picked up his sandwich and took the first bit.

She didn't know what to say to him, she understood what her son was feeling, she really did, but she knew there was nothing she could say that would make any difference. That hurt her more than anything: the fact that she could not comfort her son when she knew that he was hurting in some way. Chris had been hurting for a while now, and even if he tried to hide it from her with his sarcasm and rebellious attitude, she could see right through it. He was her _son_, mothers just knew these things. She could catch onto his worry and pain without her empathetic sister's help, though Phoebe had been the one to assure her that it was truly there. There was something troubling her son, and it killed her to not know what. Her husband felt the same way, and after many nights of discussing what it could be, neither had any idea. Instead their worry grew and possible theories shrunk. They both had wanted so bad to believe it was just mere rebellion, but it was clear that something was bugging their son to the point where it had changed him completely.

Phoebe and Paige had both reported to her about Chris collapsing in the kitchen during a premonition (well, that's what they thought it was). The two had been very worried after he came out of it. He had almost collapsed again after standing up and he would not tell anyone of them what he had seen. She didn't know if it maybe had something to do with what was going on with him or if he just didn't want to talk about it, but it worried her none the less. It seemed like more than a premonition to Phoebe--she had never reacted to one the way Chris had. It had been so different than what usually happened. Apparently his whole body had went limp--as if he had passed out or lost consciousness for the short time before waking back up. Phoebe didn't know if it was some new addition to his premonition ability or something different. All she knew was that she had never had a premonition that way before.

Chris had finished up his sandwich and was beginning to feel the odd tingling of an on coming headache, which quickly set him on alert. He had gotten a bit of a headache before he had had his visions during math class, and the last few days he had used the lingering pain to warn him and get himself ready to pass out at any given moment. He could not pass out in front of his mother though, that would mean waking up to a lot of questions. And what if he started coughing up blood or something again? What if he woke up with a giant bleeding wound this time? No, he couldn't let her see it.

He quickly stood up from his seat, loosing his balance from the swift motion. He gripped the table, grabbing his mother's attention. She quickly took on a look that screamed worry and motherly concern, "Are you alright, Chris?"

"Yeah," Chris assured her, letting go of the table once he was sure he would be able to stand still for a few moments before his quick (well, maybe not too quick) exit. He didn't want to pass out right in the middle of the kitchen, that would not be good.

"I've got to get ready for training," he insisted, the pain in his head tingling once again, this time growing in its intensity. He turned and started his way out of the room, hand run against the wall just in case he lost his balance again.

His mother was swiftly behind him though, and she could tell something was up, "Chris, what's wrong?"

The boy gave no answer, only letting out an annoyed grunt at both his mother's questioning and the fact that he was about to fall into a vision at any minute.

"Chris? You can tell me," she assured her son, trying to get some sort of reply out of him.

"Nothing is wrong," he told her with a hint of annoyance as they turned into the foyer and he gripped the banister. Couldn't she just go back to work already and shut up? He didn't need her to start being concerned right then, he needed her to leave him alone so he could get up the damn stairs and into his room, where he could safely pass out on his bed. "Just leave me alone and go back to work, mom."

Chris decided he could take his chances with stumbling, the pain in his head growing more and more, and made a quick dash up the stairs, feet pounding hard against the wood as he ran up. Once he was up the stairs and out of his mother's view he slammed into a wall, letting his hands run against the painted wood. He needed to stay in reality until he made it to his room and shut the door.

He pushed his way forward, pain vibrating through his head, pounding against it like a jackhammer. When he finally reached his door, he twisted the handle and pushed his way in. He was starting to flash in and out of reality, visions of Lord Wyatt and his Elder father and dead cousins swarming his thoughts whenever his eyes shut. He shut the door before sloppily staggering and falling onto his bed, body sinking into the warm comforter, not longer able to fight it. He had to let it take him, his body could not longer hold on. His--

_His body felt so heavy and he felt that he couldn't even move a finger. It all hurt so much, but he refused to be healed. He would not rely on his brother, not after what he had done to Patricia. Only ten hours ago he had snapped her neck, the sound echoing its way throughout the empty sterile corridor of the hospital. He could still hear that crack replaying itself in his mind over and over. It was like the sound of a heavy branch of a tree being torn off by the powerful force of a strong wind during a storm. It would not leave him alone, he kept seeing her death, kept hearing that snap, over and over and over. _

_Wyatt's heavy, black boots paced back and forth, the older Halliwell letting out curses and mumbling about his "stupid, stubborn" younger brother. Christopher was laying on a bed, limbs stretched out and stiff, wounds wrapped up with dirty bandages which had caused a few to become infected. He needed to heal his brother, and quick. Those infections could kill the boy. He had suggested he at least clean off the wounds, but Christopher had thrown him into a dresser when he neared. His brother was in pain, but he still had enough energy to keep his older brother away from him. These wounds should have been healed days ago, and if Christopher had not run off he would have done it himself. But no, stubborn little Christopher had to run off and hide in a hospital, calling out for their deadbeat dad in a last attempt to aid his aching body. Wyatt was rather enraged with his father for not coming down to help his own son, especially in the condition that the boy was in. Leo was never known for his parenting skills though when it came to Christopher, so Wyatt was not surprised._

"_Christopher," Wyatt called as he paced the room, taking on an irritated tone, "let me heal you, dammit. Stop being such a goddamn _martyr._ She's dead, get over it."_

_Chris let out a scoff at this, "Get over it?" he repeated, unbelievably, "Get over it? Wyatt, you just killed our six year old cousin! She was innocent and... so young," he paused, shutting his eyes tight as the snap echoed through his head and a glimpse of her face flashed across his mind, "She was family, Wyatt!"_

"_She was going to get in the way, Christopher," Wyatt told him as he crossed his arms and paced, "I've been over this with you. Our family doesn't see the world like I do. They were all still stuck in the whole idea of good and evil. Those are all just concepts of the mind, Christopher, it is all just power. They would have gotten in my way, and I could not let any Halliwell who opposed me live."_

"_What about me then?" Chris asked, adjusting his body slightly, causing a soft moan to escape his lips before continuing, "I'm against this whole concept you've come up with. I still believe in good and evil. Why haven't you killed me yet?"_

_Wyatt's pacing stopped and he turned to face the young witch laying on the bed, arms crossed. A few moments of thought passed before he spoke, "Because, you're different, Christopher." He made his way up to the bed and sat down beside his brother, meeting the boy's dull, green eyes, "I have hope for you." He paused, noting the droplets of sweat that seemed to be covering the boy's forehead and the nasty cut that was crusted over, covered by a few sweaty strands of hair. The infections were getting worse. He paused and adjusted himself on the bed--gently though, so Chris would not feel much pain--before continuing, "Christopher, you are my brother, and I love you dearly." Chris rolled his eyes at this, a small scoff escaping his lips, "I know you love me too, Chris. We're brothers, we're family--the only family each other has last."_

_Chris looked up at his brother again, meeting eye contact with the boy, the words catching him like bait._

"_Now, Christopher, I can't lose you, you hear me," Wyatt gave his brother a small smile, "I don't know what I'd do if you died, I wouldn't be able to handle it."_

_Chris' gaze had quickly diverted off to a fixed point on the ceiling, avoiding Wyatt's brown eyes as much as possible, "Let me heal you Chris, please."_

_His brother's pleading tone had caught his attention, and Chris' eyes instantly locked with his. The expression matched the tone, and his brother's features were creased with worry and his brown eyes were pleading with him to just let him heal the wounds. It was times like these, times when his brother was showing such care and worry for him, that Chris got a glimpse of the old Wyatt. It gave him some sort of odd hope, that maybe if there was still a part of the old Wyatt in there that he could somehow be saved. There had to be a way for him to do it, a way that would not involve killing him. Wyatt was right: he did love him, and that fact that he was the only family Chris really had left kept him from being able to fight him to the death. _Family always comes first_--that damn saying had been forced into his head by his mother, and he could never forget it._

_Chris gave his brother a small nod, somewhat with a hint of defeat, and Wyatt let out the breath he seemed to be holding in. If his brother had said no, if they had kept up their fighting and he was not healed, he would have died in a little less than two hours. Wyatt held out his hands towards the wound on his forehead and the golden light illuminated from his hands, causing the wound to heal within seconds. A sense of relief fell over his brother as he started healing each wound with such precision and care. Just like Leo. Just like their _father _would have. Hell, maybe if Wyatt hadn't taken up being the Source of all Evil, he would have become a doctor. _

_Just like dad._

"Chris!"

The young boy's eyes shot open and he was met by the matching jade orbs that belonged to his father, the ones he had inherited. His father was sitting on the bed, towering over him, two hands holding onto his upper arms, worry creasing his features. His eyes shot over to the other figure who was hovering over him--his mother, wearing that concerned and worry creased expression as well.

"What are you doing, Leo?" Chris asked with somewhat of a tinge of distaste in his voice. This was the man who he had called numerous times over the years for help and who had never come for him. He had been close to death at that hospital, and--wait, what was he thinking? That wasn't this Leo, this was _his_ Leo. His _dad_. The man who had been there for him since he was a little boy, the man who would drop everything to check him over after a fall or demon attack.

Leo felt a sting at the sound of his son using his name, but had to push aside his hurt for the moment, his worry and paternal instincts kicking in, "Chris, what happened?" The boy sat up and pushed his father's hands off of his arms, "Did you hit your head?"

His father quickly pushed aside his long bangs from his forehead and gripped his head gently, examining him with care and precision, just like Wyatt had in the vision. Like father like son, he supposed.

"What?" Chris moved his head and tried to fight off his father's hold, hands shooting up and grabbing onto his father's wrists, trying to pry them off, "No, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Leo was thankful to see no indication of injury and obliged his son, letting go of the boy's head.

"Chris," his mother started, face filled with so much worry, "you looked like you were about to collapse downstairs. I heard a slam right before your father returned from magic school, and when we got in here, you were passed out on your bed." The two parents watched as their son rub at his temples rigorously, still feeling the slight aches from his other injured selfs unhealed wounds.

"I was just feeling a bit faint," he looked over towards his father from between his fingers. His eyes shot to his mother before adding, "I don't really know why, but I was."

"Maybe from lack of sleep," Leo suggested, both Piper and Chris looking his way, the boy letting his hands drop from his face, "You seem so tired lately, and excessive yawning and dizziness are signs of sleep deprivation." Leo looked towards his wife, the two seeming to agree that his hypothesis seemed right.

"Hmm," Chris gave a nod at this, thanking God that his father had went the non magical route with his explanation. It gave him a way to push aside what had really happened and get out of trying to make up some elaborate lie. He had a feeling his parents were starting to pick up on his lies more often anyway, "I haven't been sleeping well lately," he confessed, feeling rather good about telling them something that wasn't a blatant lie.

"We've noticed," Piper told her son, who raised a questioning eyebrow at this. He hadn't thought it was that noticeable. He tried to act as normal as possible, but it was somewhat hard given how tired he truly was. Running on only two to three hours of sleep a night really got to you after a few months.

"We're your parents, Chris," she explained to him, a small smile growing on her lips, "we catch onto these things faster than you think."

That statement sent Chris a small warning, not intentional by his mother, of course. They would start to catch on to what was going on with him sooner or later, they knew him too well, and with everything getting so much worse, he didn't know how long he could keep up hiding it all. Things only got worse, not better, and he had a feeling things would be getting dreadfully terrible soon. Everything was just building up--the visions getting worse and worse, the pains were almost unbearable, and he had coughed up actual blood, real fucking _blood--_it felt like he was about to hit the climax of a story, the rest had all been the rising action. He hoped he wasn't though, because of what he remembered about climaxes, nothing good ever seemed to come of them.

"Try to get some sleep," Leo ordered his son, giving him a gentle smile, "We'll skip your second training session for today, so just worry about getting some rest, alright buddy?"

Chris gave a nod and his father gently ruffled his hair, "One of us will come to get you once dinner is ready," he told the boy before starting his way to the door.

He looked over towards his mother, who was staring at him with a small smile, worry hidden in her eyes. He let a smile stretch across his lips, a sort of smile that was meant to tell her not to worry about him, because everything would be fine. That smile was filled with small traces of disbelief and lies though; he really doubted that everything would end up being alright, and his mother really did have valid reason to worry.

His mother reached his way and pushed his bangs away from his forehead before leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his pale skin. She kept her smile beaming as she backed away and stood up, making her way to the door where his father stood. The two exited the room as Chris laid down on his bed, curling up, knees bent slightly, against the warm comforter. Once he heard the door shut and the sound of two sets of footsteps retreating down the stairs, Chris sat up and ran a hand through his hair. There was no way in_ hell_ he was going to sleep. He was not giving those visions an open invitation to intrude his mind again.

He stood up and went to dig under his bed, patting around until he found his pack of cigarettes. He quickly stuffed them in his pocket--along with his lighter--before orbing out to the park in hope that Landon may be there, willing to down a bottle with him, cause damn, did he really need a drink right about then.

* * *

Thank you all for reading and hopefully reviewing!

I will try to get the next chapter up around Christmas Eve, but I have to get writing it first. If I don't though, I will get it up shortly after.

Thanks again for reading and I hope you review!

Happy Holidays!

:)


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas!**

Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I'm so glad to hear you liked the chapter. Sorry I didn't get this up the day I said I would, but I go caught up in the excitement of three snow days and the start of my amazing winter break!

I hope you all like the chapter, and please, please, please review! I love to hear what you think and hear your opinion on the story! :)

* * *

The Manor was lively and wild that Friday night, like always, children running around, playing games, while the adults laughed and chatted between themselves. Chris was sitting in the sunroom, watching Henry Jr. and Patricia play pretend. The two had come up with this whole fantasy world, explaining it to Chris with such excitement. Patricia was a princess--of course--locked up in some castle, playing the whole "damsel in distress" role that every princess was meant to play, while Henry Jr. was an all powerful prince, a prince that had magical powers, including the power to shoot electricity from his hands. That, of course, was inspired by him. His cousins seemed to think his power was just so wonderful, but they didn't know how annoying it really was. He'd gladly give it up to one of them, since they seemed to like it so much.

Henry Jr. went on to tell him that he was supposed to save the princess from the evil Goblin King who locked her up in a high tower that was guarded by flying goblins. Chris gave a nod at that, and Henry asked him if he wanted to play along, to which Chris said, "No thanks." He didn't want to pretend anything other than being normal.

The two had run off shortly after that, the princess reporting to her high tower (the attic) and Henry Jr. starting his way up the stairs to retrieve her. He was left alone with his own thoughts, something that he didn't really mind at the moment. He was still working on the never ending quest to sort through his visions and figure out what the hell was going on with him. He was surprised Wyatt had not stormed in yet to talk nonstop and annoy him to no end. Wyatt seemed to always burst in with questions or annoying banter whenever he was alone. The last time he had seen Wyatt though, he was talking with Peyton. The two had been talking an awful lot lately, and Wyatt and Peyton had never been super close, so Chris was starting to get a bit suspicious. With Peyton's telepathy and Wyatt's nosy tendencies, the two could have started up some sort of plan concerning him; they both seemed to have taken an interest in finding out what was wrong with him. Peyton had been going through his mind a lot more--he could feel it--and it was really starting to irk him. He didn't need her--or Wyatt--knowing his personal thoughts or finding out his big secret. For one, it was a huge breach of privacy, and wasn't it considered personal gain? If she kept it up, her ass would be stuck in another dimension--well, maybe not another dimension, just the top of the Golden Gate Bridge for a while. If he orbed her to another dimension he'd never see the light of day again, his mother would make sure of that.

Chris sunk down in his seat and rested his head on the back of the whicker chair and shut his eyes. God, he was tired of all of this shit. He was sick of his nosy family and all of these damn visions. He wished he could have snuck out of this stupid dinner and went out to down a few rounds with Landon. He was in serious need of getting completely wasted and just forgetting about everything for a little while. Hell, he would settle for just a quick smoke break or a few puffs of a joint, he was _dying_ to escape. He could hear his cousins running around, playing games while screaming and laughing, and they were just so _loud_. He needed some peace, a bottle of whiskey, and a pack of cigarettes. He needed to sort through his thoughts or just forget about them all.

"Chris, sweetie?"

Aunt Phoebe's voice snapped him away from his thoughts. He quickly rubbed at his tired eyes before opening them wide to look over towards his aunt. She stood in the doorway with an empathetic smile, her arms crossed.

"Dinner's ready," she told the boy, watching as her young nephew sat up straight and gave her a weak smile. She was trying to keep herself from getting a strong reading off of him, but it was quite hard. He was still radiating those same emotions she had picked up on before and with much more force, but she would work as hard as she could to keep from letting them overwhelm her. She didn't want to end up getting a terrible headache from it, and besides, they weren't really her business anyway. Chris wanted to keep them private, hence why he was not expressing them. Oh, that secretive little nephew of hers.

He stood up from his seat and gave a nod, stuffing his hands in his pockets and meeting her at the door, where the two started their way to the dining room.

Phoebe decided to get in a quick, concerned question before they made it fully there, "What happened to you a few days ago, Chris?"

The boy turned his head to look at her, raising an eyebrow to show his bemusement.

"In my kitchen," Phoebe spoke as if it was obvious, "when you just collapsed to the ground." Chris instantly looked away, and Phoebe could feel his anger rising. She continued on though; she needed to know. She was worried, his whole _family_ was worried, "It wasn't a premonition, was it?"

Chris looked her way at that, stopping in his tracks. He was about ready to snap, and this sudden fear that she had figured out what was going on with him swiftly struck him. But how would she know? The things he was seeing, they just ... were _crazy_. They weren't real, they were all hallucinations, right? They couldn't be real, that would just be insane.

Chris met his aunt's gaze, eyes hardening as he simply told her with a hint of anger, "Leave it alone, Aunt Phoebe."

"Chris--" She started, but was cut off harshly.

"Drop it."

With one last hard look, Chris turned and started his way into the dining room, where the family had gathered. His mother was bringing in bowls and plates filled with food--seasoned chicken, her classic mashed potatoes, buttermilk biscuits--and his aunts, uncles, and cousins were all climbing into seats, ready for the meal to begin. He hadn't actually attended the dinner part of a family dinner in a while and he instantly was reminded why. All of these magical beings all in one room just made him itch to get the hell out of there. He loved his family, but being with them _all _in one room just felt like too much, and given that there would be his empathetic aunt and telepathic cousin there, getting clear readings off of him the whole time, made that itch even worse. He needed to find a solution to his little problem with them. There had to be some way he could stop it.

Chris spotted his usual seat (which had been abandoned for quite some time) next to Wyatt and made his way over, sliding into the chair and making brief eye contact with his brother.

Chris looked off straight ahead, quickly catching sight of Peyton. She had had her eyes on him for a quick moment, but when he met her gaze she quickly looked away. If she was trying to read his mind, he sore he'd--

"Well, I see Chris has decided to _honor_ us with his presence again at tonight's dinner," Aunt Paige's voice caught his attention, causing Chris' head to snap up her way as she placed a glass filled with water beside his plate. She was wearing one of her smirks.

He sent a glare mixed with annoyance and anger her way, which, of course, his mother had to catch onto, "Christopher Perry." She warned, causing Chris to quickly soften his features and look away, leaving Paige with a triumphant smirk.

Once the drinks were all set out and his mother and Aunt Paige sat themselves down, the eating began. Voices tuned in, starting up on conversations between cousins and parents as the food was passed around. Chris took very few of it though, his mind somewhere else at the time, and stomach not really craving anything. He kept feeling Peyton trying to break into his mind. He had put himself on high defense right as his parents sat down, putting up mental barriers to force his nosy aunt and cousin to mind their own business. It was the only thing he could really think of doing to stop them at the moment, but it was quite difficult to hold up. It took a lot of concentration, and he kept dropping it every few minutes. He would always bring it back up quickly, but it was very tiring after a while. He needed to find himself a somewhat permeant solution to his problem. Maybe a potion or something? He had this odd feeling that he could find something down in the Underworld Markets to stop it, and he actually could think of a specific demon to go to. His name was Terry--a dirty, lower level demon who was known for his selection of rare, strong potions. He had a shop a little ways into the Markets; you took a left at the first alley, then took the third right and fourth right after that and you were there. He had a potion that would be strong enough to block both his aunt's and cousin's powers, though he would have to go back a few times after it wore off, but that was fine with him. Wait, how the hell did he know all this...? Actually, never-mind, he didn't even want to know. All that mattered was he now had a solution to this problem. Right after this stupid dinner he would orb himself down there and solve this once and for all.

Chris stabbed at his food, mind occupying on keeping up his barrier and answering the questions that were directed his way by aunts and uncles. Chris saw something out of the corner of his eye shimmer into the foyer, and he quickly felt his nerves tingle. Dammit, he was _not _in the mood for this right now. He looked up and spotted three demons, all with those twisting horns that pointed up sharp towards the sky. One hissed, catching the attention of all of the room's occupants, and Wyatt quickly acted up, standing up from his seat and shooting his hand out, causing the demons to fly backwards.

Chris quickly stood up along with the rest of the family. He could see his mother's face contorted with rage. She really hated when demons barged into the house, especially during one of her family dinners. Chris readied himself for a fight, knowing that he wouldn't have the option of opting out.

"Penelope," Aunt Paige called to her oldest daughter, "get all of your younger cousins out of here."

The girl gave a nod and grabbed onto Peyton and Prudence's arms, causing the three of them to disappear in a swirl of orbs. Henry Jr. and Patricia orbed out on their own, leaving only their aunts and mother, their two uncles and father quickly exiting the room with the kids.

The demons were starting to stumble up and Wyatt and Chris quickly rushed out into the foyer.

"Stupid freaking demons," Chris mumbled as he charged one who was pulling out a dagger, sending the malicious creature back into the wall, cracking a framed family picture on the wall. It went right through his mother's face. He felt his head starting up with that familiar sensation, and he felt his anger rising. Right then, really? He had to start with a vision right then? Man, these things sure did have _great_ timing.

The demon charged at him again, and Chris sent his hands flying out, electricity bursting from them. The horned demon let out a sickening howl at the pain, stumbling back as 1000 volts shot through his body.

Chris turned to look towards his brother, meeting the older boy's gaze. Wyatt wore a smile filled with confidence and enthusiasm. There was a sudden flash, and the pain in his head doubled, and when Chris looked back again, everything was different.

_A sixteen year-old Wyatt let out a harsh yell and charged his way towards a demon that was standing behind Chris, and he quickly turned and watched as the horned demon pushed a dagger straight through her chest, her once comforting eyes going wide and terrified. Wyatt stopped in his tracks, hands raised and eyes wide, frightened just as Chris was. This couldn't be happening, no, this couldn't be happening. _

_The rough hands of a demon_ grabbed onto Chris' arms and he felt himself try to _pry free, struggling as he held back the tears as he watched as his mother fall to the ground and Wyatt quickly sent an energy ball the demon way. His mother's eyes met his and Chris let out a harsh, painful gasp as _he felt something tear straight through his chest, the pain burning and radiating through his torso as he looked down and saw the long pointed end of the bloody dagger. The dagger that was prodding out of his chest as _his shirt began to soak with blood. He fell to his knees, and Wyatt quickly turned as he kneeled down to his mother, eyes going wide as he spotted his brother collapse to the floor, blood starting to drip from his lips._

"Chris!" His mother's voice let out the most horrified scream he had ever heard, "Oh God, Chris!"

"_You don't have enough time to heal them both, Wyatt," the demon announced with a smirk, horns much more higher than the rests. Chris took that as a sign that he was the head of the clan. "The wounds are fatal and they will both die within minutes."_

"_You bastard!" Wyatt cursed, turning to look at the devilish demon that stood behind him, eyes quickly falling back onto his bleeding mom and younger brother, "Why did you do this?"_

..."Wyatt, go get your father!"...

_The demon went up to the boy's ear and whispered something into it, causing Wyatt's features to crease as his felt his anger surge uncontrollably inside him, "You couldn't have just trusted I was sincere?" he mumbled to the demon with hate, turning his head the malicious creature's way, eyes never leaving his wounded family members_

"_You have to decide, Wyatt,"_ _the demon told the young teenager, ignoring his question, "who will you save: your loving mother or younger brother?" He paused before letting his smirk grow, knowing well what the boy was thinking, "Go ahead," he encouraged, "call your father. But it won't do you any good, and we both know that that will prove you weren't sincere."_

_..._"We have to pull it out."...

_Wyatt's eyes flashed from his mother to his brother quickly, and the boy let out a curse as he rushed his way over to the fallen boy and kneeled down._

"_No!" Chris cried as his eyes met his mother's, "No! Wyatt, save her!" He could see the tears forming in her once comforting eyes, he could tell that she was in so much pain, just like he was, "Dad!" he called out, "Dad, please come down!"_

"Chris! Chris!" Chris let out a harsh gasp as his eyes fluttered open and he looked over to find his father kneeling beside him, face creased with worry, his eyes and weak smile trying to provide comfort, "I'm right here, buddy. It's going to be alright."

He was out again. What he had just saw wasn't real. The pain was still radiating through his chest and he could taste blood in his mouth, but that would all pass soon. Whatever he just saw wasn't real. His mother was uninjured and so was he ... right?

"Mom," Chris pushed his body up from the ground with one shaking hand and turned his head, looking for his mother's soft, comforting gaze to meet his.

"Chris, it's alright," his mother's voice called, and Chris turned his head a little more to met her gaze. She was kneeling beside him, looking so frightened. Leo had looked the same way, features creased and eyes shining the same expression, "Just lay back down, we need to pull out the dagger so Wyatt can heal you."

"What?" Chris was instantly confused at that statement. Was he still in his vision--no, he couldn't be. His mother was hurt too in his vision, but his mother seemed fine. And besides, they were all younger in his vision. Wyatt had looked to be sixteen, so that put him at fourteen or thirteen. The pain was still radiating through his chest, but instead of lessening, Chris could feel it growing and growing. His eyes betrayed him and dared to look down at his chest, where the blood that was seeping from his fresh wound was soaking up his shirt and dripping onto the once spotless floor, where a small puddle had seemed to form.

"Oh God," Chris' breath hitched as he brought a hand up to his chest, heartbeat racing, "I really--I'm--holy shit."

Had he been stabbed in real life, or did he just wake up with a dagger right through his chest? He hoped it was the former, because he knew he'd have a hard time explaining how a dagger just suddenly appeared in his chest. He actually wished it had been neither now the he really thought about it. This pain was almost unbearable and the fact that they had to pull the dagger out didn't sound like much of a comfort to him at all.

Chris' shaky hand could no longer hold him up and he collapsed back to the ground.

"Okay," Leo quickly went back into action at that and gripped the dagger that was protruding out of his son's back. He never expected to be pulling a dagger out of his son's chest, the last time he had had to deal with an injury like this had been in his former life, when he was a medic in the army. If his son was not able to heal, Chris would probably die from blood loss before they even got him to the hospital. The thought of his youngest son dying (again) really sent Leo into a rage. He wanted to kill the demons that had hurt his son--twice, the injuries only a week apart.

Leo gripped the dagger tight and told his son, "I'm going to pull it out on the count of three," his eyes met with his wife for a brief moment, each shining worry and fear, before looking back towards his son and asking, "Alright, Chris?"

"No!" Chris screamed. He did not want to sit there and feel that blade slide out of his chest, it would hurt so much, and he just couldn't take anymore pain. He was so sick of being a witch. The words his mother had spoke to him yesterday suddenly popped back into his head: "things _will _get better." That was almost a laughable statement now. How was having a dagger through your chest showing things were getting better? Chris was taking it as a sign that things were getting _worse_.

Leo had to ignore his son's plea and placed his one free hand on the boy's back before staring his countdown.

"One ..."

"Dad!"

"... Two ..."

"Please, stop!"

" ... Three!"

Leo pulled out the dagger swiftly and Chris let out a horrific scream. Phoebe and Paige couldn't even watch, and the two sisters were forced to look away. They couldn't stand seeing their nephew in so much pain, and Phoebe could feel it radiating off him like an explosion. Once that dagger had been slid into his chest by the demon, every feeling Chris was trying to hold back had come out at full force. Phoebe felt faint, but kept trying to push Chris' emotions back; she wouldn't leave her nephew's side until she knew he was safe and healed.

"Wyatt!" Leo called to the boy quickly, and the older son, who had been kneeling a little ways off from his brother, quickly rushed to his side and placed his hands near the bloody wound. When the golden light began to illuminate from his hands and Chris' emotions and pained expression died down, the whole family seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

Chris turned to lay down on his back and rubbed a hand over where the wound had been, feeling no pain as he did it. His hands were covered in drying blood--his blood--and he couldn't deny that it freaked him out a little. He had never been injured so seriously before, and he still didn't know if it had really happened during the demon attack or just in his vision. His parents and aunts weren't questioning him though, and he took that as a good sign that he had been stabbed in real life and the dagger had not just appeared because of his vision.

His eyes wandered over to the crimson stained dagger that had once been in his chest. It was lying on the floor near some of the blood he had dripped from his wound. That was the second dagger to end up in his body in a weeks time, and that really ticked him off. Stupid freaking demons and their stupid freaking daggers. Couldn't they stop stabbing him and go for someone else for once? He would never wish for another family member to be harmed, but he was really sick of it always being him lately.

He couldn't resist reaching out to grab it, and one of his bloody hands stretched out to go clench it.

"No!" Aunt Paige instantly swiped up the dagger before Chris could grab it, and Chris' gaze went up her way, "Let's just throw this out instead of touch it and go into another premonition ... thing-y."

Chris sent a glare her way at the mention of the event and sat himself up. He shut his eyes tight for a moment and rubbed at his temples with bloodied hands, not caring if the blood got on his face--it was already splattered practically everywhere anyway--and felt himself flash once again.

_Piper's glazed over eyes were staring straight at him and Wyatt as the two boys just sat on the ground. Leo had not come when Chris called--like always--and his mother hadn't made it. The demons were gone and the house was empty. Chris turned and looked towards the dining room, where broken plates and utensils were scattered about. Wyatt had wrapped a sturdy hand around him, his gaze falling onto the destroyed dining room as well. Food had been tossed everywhere, and a once towering cake had been reduced to a smashed mess of icing and pound cake. The two candles--one shaped like the number one, and the other shaped like a four--had fallen off and were cracked._

_Chris felt the initial shock leave him and the tears begin to fall. His mother was dead, his mother was _dead_. Oh God, oh God, no. _

_Wyatt grabbed him tighter, the boy keeping strong for his younger brother, eyes staring back at their dead mother's body, emotionless and dull. He had let her die, those damn demons had made him chose between his brother and his mother. It wasn't fair, they were not supposed to do that. He had told them he was sincere, he had swore he was an ally, but they had to go and make him do this. He had to remember that this was for the better though, with their help he would change this world, show them all that good and evil were just stupid conceptions of the mind, and all that really mattered was power. The more you had, the better. With power he could make this world better, for his brother, for his family, his neighbors, _everyone_._

"_It'll be alright, Chris," Wyatt tried to sooth his brother, "everything's going to be okay."_

"_No," Chris shook his head, face red and wet from crying, "no."_

_Nothing would be okay anymore, not without his mother. Why hadn't his father come? He could have saved her! His mother would still be alive if his father had just answered his damn call! He wanted his mother back, it wasn't fair. She wasn't supposed to die, not today, not ever. _

_Chris' eyes fell back onto the destroyed dining room, eyes falling onto the strung out letters that hung on the wall, half of them dropping down to the ground._

_Happy Fourteenth Birthday, Christopher. The one birthday he would never forget._

Chris opened his eyes and quickly turned to the spot where his mother had last sat and met her gaze. She was still alive, he had to remember that, but oh God, after seeing that, he felt like he was going to be sick.

Chris quickly stumbled to his feet and swiftly rushed away, running up the stairs and past his cousins and into the bathroom, where he threw up the little food that he had eaten during dinner that night until nothing was left for him to throw up, and all that came up was sickening bile. He couldn't get it out of his head, the way his mother looked _dead_. Dammit, he hated Leo for not coming, why hadn't he come! They had needed him, _she_ needed him! ... Then it hit him. The infamous _"she"_ who always seemed to come up when he talked with the other Leo, the reason he held such a hatred towards the man, was his mother.

Piper was the _"she"_ his father had let die.

* * *

The Underworld Markets were bustling late that night, demons rushing around and cluttering the streets like an average day in the city. Vendors were calling out to the crowds, advertising their selection and trying to gather more customers, each businessman competing with the next demon a few feet away. Some customers were trying to make bargains, trying to get the seller to lower the price, insisting that it wasn't nearly worth that much or that they could get the same product somewhere else for a lower price. Some gave into the bargainers, but others weren't too friendly when it came to them.

"This isn't worth as much as you're selling it," a dark-haired man adorned in stiff leather declared as he pointed to the vial of unicorn blood, "I could get it much cheaper any place."

The muscular vendor let out a growl at this--sounding exactly like a hungry tiger--and leaned in towards the man, his huge hands resting against his booth, "You do know that unicorn blood is rather rare, don't you?" The stocky man declared, his eyes sending off a deadly look.

"I'll buy it for ten less," the dark-haired man declared, "the price it's going for now is just too high and you know it." The muscular vendor let out a hiss, and the veins in his neck began to pulsate as he clenched his fists and his muscles bulged.

"No," the demon vendor declared with venom.

"You're ripping me off then!" the customer declared with anger.

The vendor quickly shot his hand out and grabbed the demon by the throat, "I'm ripping you off?" the muscular demon roared, squeezing tighter at the dark-haired man's neck, only needing one hand to completely cover the small demon's bony neck, "I think you're trying to trick me into the selling it for less, you bastard!"

The vendor suddenly moved his arm viciously and shot the demon across the crowded street, causing a few demons to stop for a moment until their path was cleared once again. It was a common sight in the Markets, and most demons just went on their way after avoiding a collision with the flying demon. Some would stop to look for a moment, but most would quickly move on.

A hooded figure had been one to stop, staring down at the dark-haired demon as he stumbled back to his feet. He watched as the demon regained his balance, all while mumbling curses about the muscular vendor. His eyes caught sight of the hooded figure that seemed to be watching him and his gaze narrowed:

"What are you looking at, you demon scum!?" he hissed to the unknown watcher before storming off, still enraged. Little did he know that the hooded figure he had accused of being demon scum wasn't a demon at all, and instead was the one thing most demons feared and hated the most; a Halliwell.

Chris watched as the demon pushed his way through the crowds with huffs of annoyance until he could no longer see the dark-haired man and he was consumed by the crowd. Chris blended in with the crowd, in case some upper-level demon was around and recognized him, until he reached the first small alleyway and turned left. There were few demons in the alleyway, all dressed in tight leather and all black, very human looking demons, but that was it. They gave him curious looks as he passed by, trying to get a look of who it was under the hood, but Chris would quickly turn his head to look in a shop window or towards nothing at all to prevent their peek. He couldn't risk letting anyone find out who he was--though he knew he could probably fight off the few demons in this alleyway and was rather tempted to, he needed to find that potion first. For the first time in is life, he actually wanted to fight some demons. Ever since he saw that vision he had been rather angry--with his father, his brother, the demon who _killed _her. That demon would die, Chris would make sure of that. Even if it hadn't really happened, he had to kill that demon, the _other_ him had to kill that demon. He needed revenge. Besides, it couldn't be a coincidence that the same demons who had been attacking the family had been the ones who had killed his mother.

Chris took the third right instinctively, not even having to think about it or pause his thought. There were a little more demons in this alleyway, but Chris wasn't worried and went right back into his thoughts.

Ever since the attack his mother had been fusing over him, and he was still amazed he had been able to sneak out to the Underworld. She had banned him from anymore demon hunting for the time being, and Aunt Phoebe and Paige had come up with a theory that the demon may be after him. Though he highly doubted it--he wasn't the Twice-Blessed or anyone important--he didn't argue against it. He didn't want to demon hunt, though he would kill that fucking _murderer_ before his family got to the clan. That kill was his--well, the other Chris'--whatever.

Chris slid past a demon, avoiding a collision, and made his turn into the fourth alleyway on the right and spotted good old Terry's store. Chris let a smirk grow on his face as he grabbed the handle of the door and slid in. Time to take care of his problem concerning his snooping cousin and nosy aunt.

The store's atmosphere was murky and dark, and Chris could pick up the faint smells of Mandrake root and lavender in the air, combining to make a rather odd and distinctive smell. He felt like it was oddly familiar though--the whole store as well as its smell--and continued his way in, coming up to the counter and spotting Terry near a cauldron, throwing in a few ingredients with precession. Chris could name each one--the oleander went in first, then the Jimson weed, a small pinch of blood root had been next, and finally, a small amount of hollyhock seeds. It was a potion to stop someone's heart, he remembered the recipe--not that he had ever used it though.

Chris spotted a small table bell on the counter and let a smirk rise yet again--just like a regular store, he thought. He pressed his palm against the top, causing a small ring to echo through the murky store, alerting Terry to his presence. The lower-level demon's head popped up from the book he had been looking at next to the cauldron and he turned his head to spot his hooded customer. He quickly stopped what he was doing and made his way over, sporting a sickening smile that showed his rotting teeth and two large fangs.

"How can I help you?" He asked with a rough voice, leaning in to try to get a better look at his customer's face. When he spotted the green eyes and the striking resemblance to the infamous Piper Halliwell, he quickly backed up.

"What are you doing down here, you witch?!" He asked, pointing towards his customer, a small tinge of fear burning in the pit of his stomach. Why should _he _be afraid though? The Halliwell had come into the Underworld, he was surrounded by demon and greatly out numbered. It should be the boy who was afraid, not him. But Terry could not shake that fear away, he'd never been in the presence of a Halliwell before, but he had heard of them and their powers. The two sons of Piper Halliwell were two of the most powerful witches ever to be born.

Chris pulled off his hood and leaned against the counter, sending a malicious look the demon's way, "Aw, Ter, that's no way to treat a customer." He told the demon with sarcasm, smirk beaming.

"What do you want?" Terry asked, voice almost quivering with fear. He forced himself to keep from stuttering. He had to remember the _witch _was the one that should be scared, not him.

"I want a potion," Chris replied simply, pulling out his pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He placed one in his mouth and held out the pack to the demon, offering him a cancer stick. Terry shook his head almost frantically and the boy gave a simple shrug in response, stuffing the pack back in his pocket and pulling out his lighter.

"What type of potion?" Terry asked, feeling a little more safer knowing the young Halliwell was not there to take his life. He leaned in a little more, interested in the boy's request. A Halliwell wanted a potion from him? That was something he never thought would happen.

"One strong enough to block a nosy little telepath and her empathetic mother." Chris replied as he flipped his lighter shut, his gaze falling back onto the demon as he took the first drag.

"You mean your Aunt Phoebe and her daughter?" He asked, becoming much more compelled. Why was this Halliwell in need of a potion to block his own family from his mind and emotions?

"What are trying to hide, Halliwell?" He asked with a small smirk.

"None of your business," Chris hissed, a small burst of electricity crackling from his hands, "Ter."

The demon quickly backed away, eyes widening as he spotted the young Halliwell's hands. He watched as the crackling slowed and ceased and Chris exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"Here's the deal, Terry," Chris started leaning in close to the demon, "you give me that potion," he slid a hand into his pocket, causing the demon to back away a little in fear of what he would pull out, "and I give you this." The boy held up a simple vial of blood, and the demon instantly perked up, coming closer and staring at it in awe.

"Is that--"

"Gypsy blood, yes," Chris watched as the demon's smile grew and Terry tried to grab for it, but Chris quickly pulled it back.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, looking up to the boy, then back to the vial once again.

"Potion ingredients from the collection of the Halliwell's" he told the demon with a smile, "a Gypsy gave it to them a while ago," Chris looked at the vial and shook it a little, "but it should still be good."

Chris looked back towards the demon with a smirk, and the two made eye contact, "Make me the potion, and it's yours."

The demon gave a nod and quickly made his way into the back of the store before appearing again with a clean cauldron and the ingredients needed. He quickly set up his workspace and began brewing the potion as Chris watched carefully from the counter, smoking his cigarette as he peered over at the cauldron.

The demon threw in ingredients quick and fast, running back and forth to check his book. The Gypsy blood was just so rare down in the Underworld and just so tempting. He had to have it. He still wondered what the Halliwell really needed the potion for, and why he had come down to the Underworld and decided to make a deal with a demon, but like the Halliwell said while electricity had started bursting from his hands: it was none of his business. Once the potion was done, he quickly retrieved a bottle and handed it to the boy who wore a smirk.

Chris handed him the Gypsy blood and held his potion up to the light, staring at the blue liquid with interest and a faint smile.

"It should work for quite some time," Terry told the boy, "but it will eventually wear off, and when the time comes, I would be," the demon looked towards his vial of Gypsy blood, a smile appearing on his face, before continuing, "_delighted_ to do business with you again."

Chris met the demon's gaze and uncorked the small bottle. He downed it all in one sip and smiled as he slammed the bottle back onto the counter, "Pleasure doing business with you, Ter."

With that, the young Halliwell was quickly consumed in a swirl of blue and white, leaving the murky, smelly store and his first demonic ally behind.

* * *

Well, there you have it!

Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! I will try to get the next one up as soon as I can, I just need to write it first, of course!

Thanks again for reading and please, please, _please_, review! They make my day and get me to stop procrastinating and write more!

I hope you all have a Happy New Year!

:)


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my own thoughts and ideas!**

Thank you all so much for the reviews for last chapter, I appreciate every single one of them so much!

I'm sorry for the somewhat long wait, but hopefully the length of this chapter (practically 14 pages!) will make up for that.

Enjoy! :)

* * *

Chris took a swig of whiskey from the wrapped bottle that he had been clinging to for a half an hour in the park, his eyes traveling over to the kids who ran and played on the playground that was only a few feet from the bridge that he sat under. The day was young, the sun sitting high up in the sky, shining down on the city as a cool wind blew occasionally. It wasn't too hot and it wasn't too cold; the weather was perfect and seemed to put everyone in a good mood. Except for Chris, that is. There was no hint of joy spread across his features as he took another sip of the strong whiskey. Landon had given him this precious little bottle to chug all on his own. Landon could clearly see he did not want company and had snuck him out the bottle before heading off to Zooey's for a bit. He wasn't in the mood to have to hear Zooey's lectures and Landon's drunken slurs, all he wanted was to escape his house for just a few hours and drown himself in liquor. Later he planned to pay that little demon clan a visit and kill every son of a bitch that crossed his path. He was looking for the leader though; the one with the longest horns, the one who had stabbed his mother--no, his _other _mother. His mom was alive and well, helping his aunts and Wyatt look up more about the demons.

Chris let out a laugh as he pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, the thought of his mother producing the rough sound. Ever since his second--almost fatal--stabbing the day prior his mother was out for blood and more determined than ever to get these demons taken care of. The idea that the demons were after him had fueled the sudden determination. Whenever anything was after one of her kids she'd do anything to stop it. It wasn't a bad thing though, and the reason for Chris' laughing was the fact that he knew he'd beat them to the punch. What they were still looking for he already knew.

The demon clan was called the Cornu and was distinctively known for their high power over certain parts of the Underworld. Their leader--Chris' target--was rather close to the Source, hence why he had control over some parts of the Underworld. He had no clue why they were after his family or him, but Chris thought it was safe to assume that this clan wanted more control and more power, so what better way to impress the Source and obtain it by killing a Halliwell? Chris already had a plan all mapped out and vanquishing potions had already been brewed. Though the coven had much control over parts of the Underworld, they weren't really that strong. Chris had a feeling he wouldn't even need the potions knowing the strength of his own powers. Being half-Elder really did come in handy that way, even if he did hate his magical lineage with a burning passion.

Chris lit the end of his cigarette and took a drag as the flame vanished from his lighter as quickly as it came. He rested his back against the brick of the bridge and let his eyes wander back to the playground. The children were still playing on it without a care in the world, smiles bright as the ran up slides and chased each other around. His eyes scanned over the scene, mind fogging, and stopped when he spotted the two familiar figures heading his way: his Twice-Blessed older brother and nosy telepath cousin. Of course they would come to find him. There was a demon (supposedly) after him, and he just couldn't defend himself without getting stabbed in the process. It was the stupid visions fault. If he wasn't dealing with them he would have been able to prevent himself from getting injured in the first place. Going on little sleep wasn't helping him either.

He took a drag from his cigarette as he picked up his wrapped bottle and took one more swig of the whiskey. He knew he'd have to get rid of the bottle quickly, and within seconds the bottle had been orbed off to some random alleyway he had pictured in his mind.

"Chris!" Wyatt called with a look of annoyance, rushing his way over to the younger boy, Peyton swiftly behind him. He watched as his brother took another puff from his cigarette before he took it out of his mouth to tap the ash off the end.

"Damn," Chris cursed as he inhaled and let the smoke escape his lungs before he continued, "I should have cloaked myself from you." He shrugged and sat himself up straight.

Wyatt rolled his eyes at this and crossed his arms, "It's a good thing you didn't or mom would have _killed_ you." He told his younger brother, "Didn't mom and dad tell you to stay in the house until the whole demon situation was taken care of?"

"They may have," Chris responded with a shrug as he took a drag, "but I just decided to ignore them because they were freaking out over _nothing_."

"Did you forget that you were stabbed in the chest yesterday?" Wyatt asked mockingly as he watched his brother stumble up from the ground. He was infuriated with his younger brother for being such an ... _idiot! _He could have died the day before, he had been _stabbed_ in the chest! Wyatt had never been more terrified in his life. He had heard his brother's harsh gasp as the blade had cut through him, he had seen the way his eyes widened and the blood began to soak up his shirt. It was horrifying, and the thing that scared him the most was that look in his eyes. It was hard to explain, but those jade orbs looked completely blank in that moment. It was like his brother wasn't really there and the only indication that the kid even knew what had happened was the gasp he had let out. He was going to kill that clan, every last one of them would _die_ for hurting his little brother.

"Oh, no, trust me," Chris lost his balance for a brief second, feet twisting and tripping over themselves, but he quickly regained it by placing a hand steadily against the bridge, "I remember." A flash of his mother's dead, lifeless face crossed his mind and he quickly shut his eyes, bringing a hand up to his temples.

Peyton and Wyatt shared a quick look, both flashing their concern, before placing their attention back on Chris. Peyton took the shared look as a signal to start her prying, and she quickly eased her guards and focused on her cousin's thoughts, ready to let them all flow in ... White noise. That was all she heard. The static sound was running constantly through her head and that was all she was able to get off of her cousin. Chris looked her way and caught onto her bemused and shocked expression, a smile curling on his lips as he let his hand fall and stood up straight.

"What?" he asked mockingly as he took a drag, "Can't get a read off me anymore?" He watched as Wyatt looked over towards their cousin, eyes going as wide as hers, "I don't know what part of 'stay out of my head' you didn't understand, so I just found a solution to your little prying problem for you."

"Chris--" Wyatt started, looking somewhat guilty but at the same time peeved that their only insight to what was going on with his brother was blocked from their use.

Chris cut him off before he could even begin, "Did you think I wouldn't catch on?" He asked, crossing his arms, resisting the urge to let out a mocking laugh, instead settling for a smirk, "You've always underestimated me, Wyatt, but don't you remember? I'm the brains, your the brawn." Chris paused for a moment, flashes and thoughts of Lord Wyatt popping into his mind. He remembered the other Wyatt had told him that once while he had been held in captivity. They always would have little chats, where Wyatt would point out just why he really needed him to join his side, thinking that somehow Chris would just drop every moral he was ever raised with and join him. He honesty had no idea why he said that, for some reason his mind got that Wyatt and his own confused in that small moment, but Wyatt's rather bemused face after the comment instantly set Chris straight.

"What are you talking about?" Wyatt asked, watching as Chris sucked at his cigarette, looking like he was trying to suck in every last bit he could, and kept his gaze off towards the ground, "I don't remember that at all."

Chris threw his cigarette on the ground swiftly and stomped his heel against it, rubbing it hard into the concrete, "I'll see you back at the Manor." The younger Halliwell brother looked up towards his older brother, eyes locking, before suddenly disappearing in a swirl of blue and white jingling orbs, leaving Wyatt and Peyton under the bridge, both bemused and extremely curious.

Wyatt and Peyton shared a look, both flabbergasted--Wyatt much more than Peyton--before Wyatt spoke up with a question. "Do you remember any of us _ever_ saying that?"

She shook her head in response and shrugged her shoulders. The answer Wyatt wasn't hoping for.

He was still stuck on that. Where had Chris pulled that from? Chris' face had changed after he caught a glance of Wyatt's expression, suddenly seeming a bit more tensed and a little bit freaked. He wanted to know what was happening with him, but now his only way of finding out clues had been blocked off from his use. Damn his brother and his stupid stubbornness. If he would just _talk_ about what was going on they wouldn't have to be snooping around. He just had to be so ... _secretive_. All he wanted to do was help, but all Chris did was push him and the rest of the family away. He had changed from the brother he remembered months ago, picked up traits that were somewhat odd; he was paranoid, secretive, and Wyatt even picked up on some small signs of _neurosis._ He couldn't stand being around barely anyone in their family, including him. This wasn't the Chris he knew, something had come and changed his brother and he wanted to know what. He needed to fix this. He wanted his brother back.

* * *

Paige sat with the Book of Shadows in her lap, flipping and stopping on certain pages to skim a passage for a demon that seemed to fit who they were looking for before going on with a reluctant sigh when she realized that it sadly was not the clan. She rested her head in her hand as she turned the pages with a cautious speed. She felt like she'd been at this for hours, and she really wished that they could find these freaking demons and kill them before they came back for round four.

"Oh my God," Paige exasperated with a sigh as she slammed her hands on the book and looked up towards her older sister, "this demon just doesn't want to be found."

Phoebe sat at a table, scrying crystal dangling from a string that she held in her hand, the dagger that had injured her nephew wrapped with the string. She looked up towards her younger sister, hand still hovering over the map, and spoke, "Well, let's hope it'll start wanting to be soon, because until we find out what clan it is and vanquish them our nephew is in danger."

"The _"Rebel Without A Cause"_ who decided to orb off and not tell anyone where he was going even though demons are after _him_," Paige jibed as she forced herself to look down towards the Book once again, eyes scanning over the words and pictures on the two pages in front of her. Nope, none of them were the clan they were looking for.

"Come on, Paige," Phoebe retorted with a roll of her eyes before turning her attention back to the dangling crystal and map on the table, "we both went through similar phases. I wouldn't go as far as to start with the James Dean references."

Paige couldn't deny that. She had had a similar phase like Chris' during her teenage years. Drinking, partying, skipping school--all parts of her everyday life back then. She wasn't so sure what Chris did, but it had to something along those lines. She didn't really know well of her powers back then--unlike Chris--so maybe he was committing worse crimes than they could imagine. He could orb anywhere he wanted--maybe he orbed into a liquor store and robbed the place, who knew. Just like her nephew and Phoebe during her own teenage years, she had been her own form of a "Rebel Without a Cause". She found it humorous though. Instead of it being their own children rebelling like that, it was actually their nephew who had the mother who had been a saint during her teenage years. She rarely did a thing wrong her whole adolescence. But, Paige supposed, there was always time for her children to start up with the phase themselves ... oh God, did she hope they didn't.

"Well, he _is _a 'Rebel Without a Cause,'" Paige mumbled, but kept her voice loud enough so that Phoebe would hear her. She started flipping through the book again and let her head rest back in her hand, hoping that the next page would finally reveal to them the right demon.

The ringing jingle of orbs suddenly filled the room and alerted the two sisters, causing both Paige and Phoebe to look up and watch as the blue and white orbs combined and their young nephew appeared. He spotted his two aunts and looked almost surprised to see them sitting in the attic, scrying for the demon clan that was after _him_.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked, blurting out the question even though he already knew the answer quite well. He knew his family would not take a break from looking for the demons that were supposedly after him until they found them and vanquished every last one in painful, consuming flames.

"Searching for the demon clan that is after _you,_" Paige retorted, grabbing her nephew's attention and drawing his jade orbs her way. He instantly spotted the hefty Book of Shadows in her lap--the thing he had come in the attic to look at. He wanted to do a quick double check on the demon coven, make sure his potions were strong enough and see if the Book could give him any clues as to where he could find them. He couldn't do that with his aunts around though. He could tell that after only three hours of searching they still had not found the name of the coven after him in the Book. He had had to stay up all night, researching every bit of information he could get on the demon and preparing potions for his trip to the Underworld to destroy every last demon horned _bastard _he could find. He was running on barely any sleep and alcohol--which wasn't the best mix--but he thought he could still manage taking out a few demons.

Chris crossed his arms and watched as his aunt flipped to another page, "They're not after me," he declared, causing both Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige to look up his way, both sharing disbelieving looks, "What? It's not like I'm anyone _special. _I'm not the all powerful Twice-Blessed. I'm not gaining massive, crazy strong powers ever other month."

"Wow, inferiority complex much?" Paige commented, jibing her nephew as she wore a smug smirk. She knew how annoyed Chris got when anyone told him that and could not miss the opportunity to annoy the young Halliwell. She remembered how the other Chris--the one from that darker future--had seemed to share an inferiority complex with his older brother as well. Seemed even though they grew up in completely different worlds they both shared that, among other things, of course.

Chris sent a mocking, irked, look her way and Phoebe chimed in from her place at the table, knowing full well what it felt like to feel like the less stronger witch in a family, "Chris, just because you're not the Twice-Blessed doesn't mean that you're not powerful," the boy turned his head to look his aunt's way, "You're half-witch-half-Elder, making you one of the most powerful witches out there."

"She's got a point there, kid," Paige spoke up, giving Chris a smile. She knew he felt like his big brother's status overshadowed him, and ever since they were little all of the family had noticed it. It was hard for him, having a brother that was made such a big deal over.

"I don't want to be what I am," Chris retorted, eyes falling onto the Book, knowing full well that he would not be getting near it to read the passage on the Cornu to make sure he was fully prepared. He'd have to hope what he remembered from last night was enough and that his potions were strong enough. They should be though--he _is _one of the most powerful witches ever to be born. Not that he asked for that, though. He really wished he wasn't, or he wouldn't even be in this situation in the first place, "If I wasn't a stupid witch everything would be much more simpler and _normal._"

"So," Piper's voice, started up, calling to them as her feet lightly pounded against the attic stairs, "my youngest son seems to want to be blown to pieces. He still is not home, and after I told him not to--" She stopped mid sentence as she entered the room and spotted Chris standing right before her, his eyes quickly darting over to her before heading right off to the floor. He seemed to get incredibly tense in that moment, as if he was uncomfortable to be in her presence. He had been acting that way ever since the attack yesterday, and Piper had no clue why. That morning, when she found him up and about around eight in the kitchen--chugging down coffee like it was the air he needed to live on--he hadn't even spoken a real "hello" her way as she greeted him. Instead, he just gave a swift nod of recognition, keeping his eyes lowered to the floor as he rushed his way out of the room, coffee mug in hand. It just tugged and tugged painfully at her heart whenever she saw him acting like that.

"Well, it seems you've managed to make your way home, Chris." Piper told the boy as she came further into the room, keeping a somewhat stern and authoritative tone with her youngest, even if she felt a sting in her heart from his avoidance.

"Yeah," he mumbled, letting his eyes lock onto hers. They were so bright and lively, that dark brown glimmering, shining off a bit of anger, but more or less pain. Her eyes had been so dull and glazed in that vision, lacking all the emotions he was used to seeing in them. She had been dead. He had seen his own mother _dead_.

Chris quickly looked away and darted around his mother, making a bolt for the stairs, walking somewhat rushed, but not enough to cause them to chase after him. He couldn't take looking at her right then. Whenever he looked at her he saw that pale, dull face that had been laying in a pool of blood in their foyer. Lips tinted blue, dried blood speckled against her once flushed and colored skin--oh God, he couldn't think about it. It made him want to yell and scream at the top of his lungs. It made the tears swell up behind his jade orbs. He was never supposed to witness that. He was not supposed to see such a cruel and horrendous thing. She wasn't supposed to _die_ like that.

He felt his breathing speed up, come out in shaky, drawn out breathes. He quickly ran a hand through his hair, turning the corner once he stepped off the stairs and started to his room. He needed to calm down, he needed to get that image out of his head and clear his mind so that he could go kill the _bastard_ that murdered his mom. Well, his mother was alive, but his other mother wasn't, and they were the same person in a way.

"Chris?" He heard his father call his name from behind him but just picked up his pace and quickly shut himself in his room, locking the door behind him with a flick of his wrist as he leaned against the wood, trying to relax and breath normally once again. He rubbed hard at his eyes, inhaled deeply, then exhaled. He kept up his breathing pattern until he was finally breathing much slower and steadier. She was _alive_, that was all he had to remember. His mother had not died, it had been the other Piper. What he saw was just a hallucination--as painful as it had been for him--and his mother was alive and well.

Chris made his way over to his bed, got on his knees, and started to dig under it, patting his hand around a certain spot until he found what he had been looking for. He pulled out four vials of a yellow liquid--the vanquishing potion, just in case his powers weren't strong enough--and stuffed them in his pockets. He was ready to kill that clan, slaughter every single one of them, especially the bastard who had stabbed his mother. He didn't know where to find them though, and since he had not had time to take one last quick look at the Book, he'd have to just get that information from something else ... or _someone_. Looked like he'd be paying good ol' Terry another visit sooner than he'd expected.

* * *

"He hates me," Piper proclaimed as she collapsed onto the couch next to her youngest sister after her son's sudden and abrupt departure. She had never felt more pained before. Chris couldn't even stand to be in the same room with her anymore, her Peanut couldn't even have a conversation with her anymore. It had just been so sudden, and Piper didn't understand it.

"He doesn't _hate _you Piper," Paige chimed in from her spot next to the eldest Charmed sister, taking her attention away from the Book to comfort her oldest sister, "He's just acting like a typical teenager." Paige remembered she had been the same way with her adoptive parents before the accident, always trying to defy them, acting like she couldn't even talk to them because they just didn't understand her. The typical rebellious teenager. Except Chris wasn't a typical teenager, and though some of his antics were resembling of typical rebellion, others just were so odd, like this new addition. It was like he could barely even look at his mother, and that was just a _tiny_ bit odd. Maybe it had something to do with his near death experience the day before, Paige didn't really know, but it didn't fit in.

"There's something more to it, I know it," Piper told the two sisters. Ever since a few months ago, his attitude had taken a complete 360, and that just doesn't happen to normal teenagers. Piper knew her two suddenly silent sisters were in agreement with her on that fact. They all could see it. Something was bugging Chris, tugging and pulling at him so much that it had completely changed who he was.

Piper looked over towards Phoebe, who had stopped scrying and had turned her empathetic gaze towards her sister after Piper's proclamation, "Did you feel anything off him, Phoebe?" She asked her younger sister, "Anything that could help us figure out what's going on with him?"

Paige looked over Phoebe's way with a curious glance, wondering the same thing. From what she had heard about Chris' hectic emotions, she was curious as to what exactly he was feeling. She heard it was an overwhelming mix of many different feelings, all so strong that they nearly caused Phoebe to go light-headed from them all. Paige couldn't believe it when she heard it; Phoebe had mastered her power years ago, and the feelings Chris must have been feeling had to be terribly strong to cause an experienced empath like Phoebe to feel faint.

"No," Phoebe shook her head, eyes drifting over to the dagger that sat on the table, the dagger that had been stuck in Chris' arm a little more than a week ago. They had quickly discarded the other one--that time had been just too close for any of the family to bear, "It was weird. I actually didn't feel _anything _off him. It was like he wasn't even feeling a thing." Phoebe stopped as a thought suddenly struck her, remembering back to when she had first obtained her power, when the other Chris was with them, "I think he took a potion to block me." Her eyes travelled back over to her two sisters and she watched as Paige leaned forward, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"You mean like what the other Chris gave us when you first gained your power?" she asked, resting her elbows against the Book.

"Kind of," Phoebe started, pausing for a moment. She couldn't explain it, but Chris' potion felt so much more powerful than the one her sisters had had when she first gained her power. Even with the potion, she could sometimes get a small reading off of them, nothing too serious or big though. But with Chris, it was just ... _nothing_, "It feels different though, like it's stronger than the potion you guys took."

"How could he get a potion like that, though?" Piper asked, bemused, as she shared a look with Paige, then Phoebe. She knew her son was talented when it came to brewing potions, but it wasn't like there was a potion for blocking an empath in the Book or anything--well, not her knowledge, at least.

The faint sound of footsteps coming from the attic stairs were quickly heard by the three Charmed Ones and the sisters quickly turned their gazes' towards the door, halting their conversation in case it was one of their children. When Leo appeared from the staircase, ready to speak, the three sisters relaxed.

"What's up with Chris?" he asked as he made his way into the room, taking a seat next to his wife, before continuing as he noticed the curious glances each sister seemed to be giving him, "I saw him come from the attic and race off to his room. He seemed a bit off."

"Well, if you didn't already know, our son can't even stand to be in the same room with me anymore, nor look at me," Piper told her husband as he placed a hand on her thigh. He had quickly noticed her distress and instantly felt the need to comfort her.

"And the neurotic kid blocked Phoebe's empathy," Paige added, giving a nod towards her sister. A thought suddenly struck her, and Paige's expression changed, "You know," she started, almost hesitant to say what she thought, "I'm really starting to see the other Chris in him."

Piper and Leo shared a look as the room fell silent for a moment, each occupant lingering on the statement Paige had just expressed. They all knew it was true, each one had been seeing parts and traits of the other Chris becoming much more prominent in their Chris. First, there was the secrecy. Each member of the family had instantly picked up on that months ago. Of course, Chris kept secrets before that, but it was like everything was hidden from them now, even his own emotions were kept a secret from them.

Then there was the seeping hate that seemed to shine through his eyes whenever he spotted his father. Leo caught onto it instantly, and the flashes he saw made him feel like he was staring into the distrustful, jade, angered orbs of the twenty-two-year-old version of his son, not the sixteen-year-old version that was standing in front of him. That moment would usually pass quickly though, and the eyes would mold back into the eyes of his own teenage son.

Then, finally, the most noticeable trait of all: his neurosis. Chris always seemed so tense when he was around them, especially Leo and Wyatt. It was like he didn't want to be near them, like something about them just made him feel so uncomfortable, some hidden secret that only Chris knew, and he had to get away.

"Are we ever going to tell him?" Phoebe's voice broke the silence that had fallen over the four of them, speaking a question that she knew had been lingering on everyone's minds ever since Piper and Leo's youngest son had been born on that tragic, yet joyful, day.

"... I don't know," Piper replied, looking up to meet her empathetic sister's gaze, her thoughts filling up with the many memories she had of the other Chris. The memories of what he did, how they treated them and what had happened to him. It was such a complicated mess, and Piper and Leo had discussed what they would do many times, especially on the day they brought him home from the hospital for the first time. They had sat in the nursery, watching their young son sleep soundly, wrapped up in a small blanket that covered his tiny body completely. It was so weird, seeing the baby Chris, who they had first seen as a twenty-two-year-old. That night, as they watched baby Chris sleep peacefully, the two had discussed the older Chris. Everything he ever did, anything they ever did to him, had been brought up that night, and they were proud of their son, _so _proud of him for what he had done to save the world, to save their _family_. They didn't know if they could tell him though, they didn't know how to go about telling their son such a complicated story. And what about Wyatt? How would their oldest child react if he found out that he had once been the Source of All Evil? They didn't know, but they did know eventually they wanted to tell their Chris of what the other him had done, because, as Piper had noticed with the other Chis, she knew that her youngest would share an inferiority complex with the oldest. Wyatt would always be more powerful than Chris, and she knew that would lead to a lot of insecurities for the younger one. She would make sure to treat them equally--as she did--and make sure her son would feel like he wasn't just the Twice-Blessed's little brother.

"I really don't know." Piper repeated as Leo's hand slid into hers and clasped it tightly.

* * *

Chris stabbed an athame hard into a demon's chest and backed up as it screamed and howled, flames consuming it. He spit out a clump of blood from his mouth and wiped at his lips with his arm, taking care of any excess blood that could have splattered onto his face. He had taken a few good hits from the stupid demon, but in the end had--just like the fifteen others--killed it with a swift and quick hit. He had orbed to this part of the Underworld about forty minutes ago and still had not located his stupid main target, the leader of the Cornu clan, Valerian. Terry had given him the name of his target, as well as the location rather quickly. He was a little hesitant at first--he seemed to be quite afraid of the clan--but a little _persuading_ took care of that swiftly.

"Come on!" Chris taunted with a sickening smirk as he walked over to the pile of ashes that had once made up one of the many demons he had vanquished and picked up an ashy athame before standing back up, gripping it somewhat loosely, "Is that all you've got?!" He wouldn't show it, but he was actually rather exhausted from all of this constant fighting. His lack of sleep wasn't really helping him any. Chris took a few steps, eyes scanning his surroundings, trying to spot a demon, before starting up again, "From your reputation, I was expecting a hell of a fight." Chris paused, waiting for some sign of movement, but saw none, "Stupid freaking demons, I don't have all day! Valerian, just come out here so I can vanquish your ass and get out of this stupid place!"

There was a sickening laugh at that and Chris suddenly turned, hand tightening its grip on the athame. He spotted the demon, tall horns twisting up into the sky, smirk stretched across his sickening features, as he walked towards Chris with his arms crossed.

"You're a dumb little witch, Halliwell," Valerian told the boy, making his way up to him with ease, not looking as if he was about to attack or anything, "I am ever so happy to see you here, though," the smirk grew a little at this, "it saves me the hassle of having to come find you myself, since my brothers seem to forget that they were not supposed to _kill_ you, just _kidnap_ you."

"W-What?" Chris was suddenly taken back by the statement, his features falling and morphing into an expression of pure bemusement. They actually _had _been after him? Now, that was kind of shocking. He hadn't actually expected the whole idea that the clan was after him to be true, but apparently, it was, "Why?"

"Oh," Valerian exclaimed with a knowing, malicious smirk, "you know why." Chris' features suddenly tightened at this, and his hand gripped the athame so tight that his knuckles started to go white, "We want what you're seeing to become a reality--well, it _was _reality until you came and screwed that up."

"You've lost me," Chris responded, keeping his distance from the demon as he hid his shock. How did he knew about what he was seeing? He had to be mistaken, because there was no way he could _know_ that. It just--it wasn't possible. Playing dumb was his best bet. He didn't really understand what he was talking about in the first place.

"What you've been seeing, all of those terrible, _evil _things," the demon's smirk had grown then, "were supposed to happen, until another version of yourself--who I did have the _pleasure_ of meeting once--came and prevented your brother from turning evil and screwed all of us demons over." The demon took a few steps, hands clasped behind his back. Chris watched cautiously, equally confused and enthralled, "But don't you fret, little Halliwell, all can be fixed. The Seer found out of what you've been seeing, and she and the Source hired me to track you down so we could fix up this little mess." He stopped pacing and turned to met the witch's jade orbs with his blackened ones, "There's something that caused your brother to snap, to stray away from--" a scoff, "_good_ and turn to evil."

Chris crossed his arms at this, athame still held tight in his hand, "And what?" he started, "you want me to dig through my weird hallucinations--" the demon cut in quickly, reminding him that they were not hallucinations, they had once been _real _and probably still were in some alternate timeline, before Chris continued, "my _visions _to help you turn my brother evil?" It was Chris' turn to give a scoff and roll his eyes, "That's not happening. I can't stand magic already, why would I want to turn this world into the one from my vision, where magic is the hugest part of my life?"

"You don't have the choice, _Halliwell,"_ Valerian replied with a smirk, speaking the boy's last name with a venom. His eyes were not on Chris this time though, but had settled on a point behind him. Before Chris could turn to see what it was, he felt a sudden pair of hands grab onto his shoulders and he let out a gasp as he felt something tugging and pulling at his mind, trying to force him to fall into a vision.

"Did you know," a female voice hissed close to his ear, her breath hot against his neck, "that your vision are linked to your premonition power, little witch?" Chris instantly knew who it was that had grabbed him, who it was that was trying to force him back into that _hell_. The Seer, a human looking demon with the power to see the future. It wasn't the same Seer his mother and aunts had destroyed though, it was the heir to her thrown, so to speak. She seemed much younger looking, her wavy locks resting against her shoulders, dark eyes shining a sort of playful, sadistic look.

Chris had dropped the dagger and tried to fight it, tried to get her off of him and help him to escape before she could pull him in, "Stop fighting it, little Halliwell," she hissed into his ear with an biting anger to her voice as her grip tightened, "you're only going to delay the inevitable."

"No!" Chris shouted as he tugged against her grip. He suddenly heard the crackle and felt the tingling sensation of a small ticklish shock spread across his body. The Seer let out a yelp as she was shocked and her body was flung across the cavern. Sparks were still flying around Chris' body as he fought to keep out of the vision, but he knew he couldn't do it. He was too tired, and he could fell himself slipping in, visions of Lord Wyatt and his deceased family flashing before his eyes. He was covered in sweat, the exertion of power completely draining him as his mind was being pulled and tugged back and forth between reality and his visions. His eyes quickly landed on Valerian, who had backed up a little, blackened eyes wide as he stared at the witch, and the sparks crackling and swirled around him madly.

"You." Chris stumbled forward, bolts of electricity flying around him, "_Bastard!" _Chris held his hand out and sent sparking bolts of electricity towards the demon, who let out a sickening scream as he collapsed to the ground. Chris took sluggish, crooked steps as he made his way closer. He shot his hand out again, and with a quick flick of his wrist, shot the demon back into the wall of the cave before he held the monster up by the throat, using his telekinesis, "_Murderer! _You _killed_ her_!_" He slammed the demon into the wall of the cave hard, causing a bit of rock and dirt to fall from the wall as he banged him against it over and over. He suddenly dropped him to the ground, his head pulsating in pain. He had to get out of there, he had to get home before he passed out. His eyes travelled back to the demon and spotted his fallen dagger right near his feet. He wouldn't let the demon live, not after what he had done to his mother.

He picked up the fallen athame from the dirty, soot covered floor and stumbled his way slowly to the fallen demon that was covered in his own blood. Chris fell to his knees and stared the demon right in the face, hand gripping the dagger tightly. They were both panting now, both in terrible amounts of pain and exhausted beyond belief.

"How long do you think--" the demon paused as his features scrunched up from the pain and he let out a fit of coughs. After the fit passed within a few seconds, he went on, voice laced with pain, "You can keep this up? If you don't find a way to stop it," a harsh cough, "you'll go crazy. You won't make it, Halliwell."

Chris lifted up the dagger with his shaking hand, pain pounding in his head, "Well, at least I'll know _you're_ dead, Valerian," The hand went down with force and the demon let out a horrific scream as he was consumed by flames, turning into a pile of black ash.

Chris sluggishly stood up and stared down at the ashes for a moment, panting, before he was consumed by a fit of heavy coughs, his body fighting to stop it and breath. He was flashing in and out, and the pain in his head was so unbearable. He wanted it to stop, he wanted to _cry_ it hurt so bad. He was so sick of pain, but it had never been like this before.

His eyes travelled over to the Seer, who was lying passed out on the ash covered ground. What had she done to him? The coughs settled and Chris quickly orbed himself out of the cave, knowing that he'd have to let himself fall into this vision, he knew he had no choice. It was tugging at him so strongly that he was amazed he hadn't passed out yet.

His orbs landed him in the foyer of the Manor and the coughing fits quickly started back up, his legs wobbly and weak as he started to feel dizzy. He started his way towards the staircase, legs going off left and right as he could not get himself to walk straight. He placed a hand on his head as the pain started up more fiercely, pounding against his head like a hammer, and he let out a painful gasp.

"Christopher Perry Halliwell!" His mother's anger voice rang through his ears, coming from the kitchen, somewhat muffled but full of anger, "You're in big trouble, mister!" She must have heard him orb back in, and she must be so pissed he had run off again ... or was he imagining this? Was his mother the other Piper, the dead Piper? God, he just couldn't remember, and his head hurt so damn _bad_.

He tried to speed himself up, get himself to his room before she could see him, stumbling and wobbling his way to the stairs, having to grab onto the railing to prevent himself from collapsing to the ground.

"Chris ..." His father's voice this time, somewhat a mix of concern and anger. But what father was this? The _bastard_ who abandoned him and let his mother die? Or was he the good father, the one who never missed a birthday and was always there for him? He didn't know. He was so confused and tired and hurting and--Oh God, just make it all _stop_!

He turned his head to look his father's way, eyes wide and frightened as he felt his mind flash again. _Lord Wyatt was standing over him with a sickening grin_, _dressed in all black with an energy ball swirling in his hands_.

"_Stay back!" Chris yelled, sending a glare Wyatt's way._

Leo quickly backed up and raised his hands in front of him, "Alright." He had no idea what was going on, but it was scaring him. His son was covered in sweat, his legs barely able to support him as he clung to the banister. Piper had joined his side briefly before the outburst, her anger quickly vanishing and turning into intense worry.

Chris blinked and found himself staring at his father and mother, not Lord Wyatt. He grabbed his head as he felt another heavy, painful pound against his head. He was flashing in and out at such fast speeds it was making him nauseous. He knew he could no longer fight it, his body wasn't going to allow his sleep deprived form to win this battle.

One more pound of pain pulsated through his head before he felt his body give in. His eyes shut and he felt himself begin to fall, mind and body being consumed by the darkness and despair of his visions, the other reality. The last thing he heard from what he supposed was his real world was the shriek that escaped his mother's lips as his legs sagged and then he was gone, it pulled him in so fast it frightened him ... it scared him so much that he wasn't sure if he'd be able to escape it this time.

* * *

Thank you all so much for the reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

I hope you all liked the chapter, and i will try to get the next one written and up as soon as I can!

Thanks again for reading, and _please_ review! I love to hear what you think about the chapters, it makes my day!

:)


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my own thoughts and ideas.**

Wow. There were so many reviews for last chapter and that made my mid-term week _so_ much better! Thank you all so so much for every one of them!

Well, the wait was shorter this time, and the chapter ended up being around ten pages, so I hope you enjoy it!

:)

_

* * *

Chris sat slouched in a stiff gray cushioned chair, an old book open on his lap. He had been trying to read, trying to keep his mind occupied, but he couldn't do it. The room was silent, except for the constant beeping from a monitor and the faint sound of his grandfather's oxygen machine. He was sleeping soundly now, and Chris had not wanted to leave his side in case anything happened. It had been like this for months now, the cancer getting worse instead of getting better. The doctors had tried everything they could, but there had been no signs of improvement. His grandfather was dying. It wasn't fair. He had lost his mother and watched as his family was torn apart, and now, a year later, he had to lose his grandfather too? _

_What would he do without his grandfather? Where would he go? There were his aunts, of course, but it just wouldn't feel right. They already had their own children to take care of, so why should they have to worry about two others? Though, in all honesty, they wouldn't even see Wyatt enough to have to worry about him. His older brother had changed drastically ever since his mother's death. Wyatt was never around anymore, and whenever Chris would see him there would be this brief, cryptic interaction before Wyatt orbed off to God knows where. Chris had a feeling that he was orbing off to the Underworld, but he never questioned him about it. With things so bad with their grandfather, Chris' concerns were elsewhere. _

_The faint sound of footsteps caught Chris' attention, causing the boy to turn his head towards the door. His jade orbs caught sight of his Aunt Phoebe standing in the doorway, wearing an empathetic smile. Her eyes travelled from her nephew to her father, expression falling somewhat as she spotted him, but that smile still hung on her lips, even if it wasn't as strong as it was before._

"_How is he doing?" she asked, directing her gaze back to her nephew as she took a few steps into the room._

_Chris sat himself upright in his seat and adjusted the book on his lap before taking a look towards his dying grandfather. His eye wandered back over to Phoebe a few moments later and he answered, "Nothing's changed since yesterday."_

_Phoebe gave a simple nod at this, her gaze wandering back over to her father's sleeping form before she grabbed a chair from the other side of the room and dragged it next to Chris'. She took a seat next to her nephew and studied him as he watched his grandfather, jade eyes giving off shimmers of hidden fear and sorrow. Ever since her sister's death Chris had started to hide his feelings from the world. The first few weeks had been terrible for the whole family, especially Chris. He didn't speak a word the whole time, just sat there, completely numb, and watched as they laid her to rest. Leo had snapped at him by the end of that week, told him to stop moping and start moving on, and Chris had in return sent his father flying into a dresser. Leo should have never said that stuff to Chris, but she understood that he was having a hard time coping as well, so she didn't hold it against him. Her nephew eventually started talking again and turned back to as close to the old Chris that he could possibly become after seeing his mother killed. The old Chris would never be back, and the family had learned to accept that._

"_Your father's been looking for you, you know," she told her nephew, watching to see some sort of reaction from the boy. His sight drifted a bit, but there was barely any reaction to her statement. _

"_I know that," Chris responded, glancing over towards his aunt as he rested his back against the stiff chair, "I've been blocking him for the past three days."_

"_Oh," Phoebe replied. She should have guessed that. She knew that Chris' resentment towards his father had grown tenfold since his mother's passing and there was no way he'd willingly let the man find him. It was sad to see how her sister's whole family had just fallen apart after her death. Her sons barely saw each other and both made it a point to avoid their father like he was the plague. She wished there was some way to fix things. She wished that her oldesr sister was still alive every day._

"_You should really talk to him Chris," she suggested, watching as her nephew's gaze wandered off towards the book in his lap. Though his face showed no signs of it, she could feel Chris' temper rising at her suggestion. He had an all out hate towards his father and Phoebe was an idiot to even suggest it, but she desperately wanted to see the broken pieces of her late sister's family put back together, "He's your father and he wants to _fix_ things," Chris kept his gaze off towards his grandfather, arms crossed as she tried to persuade him, "Just give him a chance."_

"_He already lost that chance," Chris replied, letting his eyes wander off of his grandfather and fall onto his aunt._

"_Chris--"_

"_No!" Chris' voice cut his aunt off harshly, finally roaring the anger that had been raging inside him, "He was never there for me, he was always _'too busy' _with his stupid Elder duties or whatever the hell they do up there! He doesn't get to come back and try again just because of what happened to her!"_

_Phoebe was a little shocked by the sudden outburst, but kept composed and listened to her nephew. She understood what he was saying. Leo had been a neglectful father at points, but there were times when he was there for Chris ... even if they were rare, there were still those few times. She really believed that her brother-in-law was very determined to fix this, which would be why she told him where Chris had been hiding out ..._

"_Well," Phoebe stated, standing up from her seat and clutching her purse, "you _really _should give him another chance ..." she backed up towards the door, causing her young nephew to raise an eyebrow her way as he watched with suspicion, "And not get angry again and throw him into a dresser, because he is_ _your _father_ and all ..."_

"_You told him I was here, didn't you?" Chris inquired as he placed his book onto the table beside the bed. He knew when his aunt was hiding something from him; she never had been good at keeping secrets. He was kind of hoping he was wrong this time. He didn't want to have to have a talk with his father, he really hated Leo._

"_Yeah," she gave her nephew a guilty smile as she backed up into the frame of the door, "And he'll probably be here in a few seconds, so ..."_

"_Aunt Phoebe!" Chris exclaimed, standing up as he raised his hands up in disbelief and anger._

"_Just hear him out, Chris," Phoebe pleaded with her nephew, watching as the irked boy plopped back down in his chair and placed his head in his hands, rubbing his temples against his palms, "I'll be back to check on you later." _

_With that, Phoebe turned and started her way down the hall, high-heeled shoes banging against the tiles in a rhythmic pattern. A few seconds later the faint jingle of orbs could be heard--much to Chris' annoyance--and the Halliwell didn't even bother to look up to greet his father. He let out a small, disbelieving laugh as he continued to rub at his temples._

"_Chris," Leo started up, eyeing his son from a few feet away, "we really need to talk, and I really mean talk, not fight."_

_Chris lifted his head up from his hands and rested his back against the stiff chair he sat in, eyes falling on his sleeping grandfather quickly before darting over to his father, "What, no 'Blessed Be?'"_

"_Christopher." Leo spoke with a warning tone, features creasing for a moment in anger and annoyance at his son's jibe. He was serious about talking with his sons--both of them. He could never find where Wyatt was though, so he hoped that Chris could contact him and get him to come and they could all talk this out. There was a years worth of hostility between him and his two children and he wanted to mend his broken family in some way. He wanted to make things right, if Piper could see what they had become, she would be so ashamed. _

"_Fine," Chris sighed as he watched his father take the seat next time him, "What do you want to talk about?" a pause, a small smirk stretching on his lips, "Your lack of parenting skills?"_

_Leo decided to ignore his son's comment--though he felt a tinge of anger towards the boy for saying it--and start up with why he had really come, "I want to fix our family Chris," he began, his youngest son instantly rolling his eyes, "I hate what we've become. I want to be a better father to both you and Wyatt."_

"_Are you going to quit being an Elder?" Chris asked, arms crossed. He believed everything that his father was saying was bullshit. He knew his father. Every promise, every word that came out of his mouth was a _lie_. He said one thing but did another. He was never sincere. "Are you coming to my birthday this year dad?" he'd ask. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, buddy." Leo would reply. Bullshit. He'd miss it because they "needed him up there." Leo was a liar, always had been, always will._

"_Chris," Leo started, a faint sound of a sigh escaping his lips, "you know I can't just _quit_--"_

"_Then why are we even having this conversation?" Chris asked, eyes falling on his sleeping grandfather, making sure he was still breathing. Leo opened his mouth to start up a retort, but Chris cut right in, "Don't even start." He warned harshly, "You're never going to change, Leo. You'll always put your duties above your family--well, maybe not above Wyatt--and I don't see this whole 'family' thing ever working out." A pause, Chris' eyes drifting over to his father's, both sets of jade orbs locking, "Face it, Leo. You're fifteen years too late."_

"_Chris," Leo's voice turned harsh and his eyes narrowed, "you're being a stubborn little brat. _I'm_ trying make things right here, _I'm _trying to put this family back together. I'm not just sitting around, letting things stay the way they are. You, Wyatt and I need to all just sit down and talk this through, work this out. If you won't do it for me, at least do it for your _mother."

"_No," Chris shook his head, voice and temper raising, "Don't you bring her into this," he pointed a stiff, accusing finger his father's way, jade eyes narrowed in his direction, "You're not _allowed_ to bring her into this!"_

"_Leo," the weak and raspy--yet angry--voice caught both father and son off guard, each turning their gaze towards the call._ _Victor had woken up and was sending a stern glare his son-in-law's way. He had heard his grandson's irritated and angered voice as he felt himself waking and knew there was only one person who could cause the usually content boy to snap like that, "I think it's time for you to leave."_

_Chris turned his gaze from his grandfather to his father, waiting to see Leo's reaction._

"_This doesn't involve you, Victor," Leo hissed the sick man's way, his harsh gaze set on Victor, "He's _my_ son and I have a right to talk with him."_

"_Leave, Leo." Victor's voice was so weak but yet so harsh, and Leo gave one last look towards his son before following the dying man's orders, disappearing in a swirl of blue and white orbs. _

"Chris ... " His mother's voice called his name, mixed with worry and concern. The hospital room that he had been sitting in instantly disappeared and Chris tried to bring himself out of his visions--just like he had tried to after the last vision, and the one before that--but something kept pulling him back. He could hear his mother as well as a constant beeping--just like the one in his last vision. He felt a soft touch on his hand as someone lifted it up and grasped it tightly, and he tried to move it, at least move one finger, but he couldn't. He felt his body, his mind, _something_, he just didn't know what, pulling him back in, pulling him farther and farther away from his mother's voice and the beeping and her touch. God no, he wanted to stay where he was, he wanted to wake up from this hell and see his real family again, not this other version. He didn't want to fall back down, away from his family, into the cold and grimy world that the other Chris--who actually happened to have been real--was forced to call his reality.

"Wake up, Peanut, please."

His mother's voice again, cracking as she spoke. He could tell she was near tears. He had no idea how long he'd been stuck in here, but he knew it was longer than usual. This time things were different. He couldn't escape, he couldn't force himself out, and as much as he tried to fight it, he was always pulled right back away from consciousness, right back down into the cold, cold, depths of that other world, his other memories--whatever they were. He could feel his limp arm, unable to be moved, being held by a soft, comforting hand. He could feel the presence of others in the room, but he still had no idea where he was or what was happening to him. Voices were talking, but he only got chopped up phrases and words from each different one. He could feel himself being pulled harder now, and he could feel this sort of cold fall over him. It was always so cold when he started to descend back away from the comforting voices and the beeping and the soft touches he felt against his hands. Cold, cold, cold. God, he really hated the cold now. When he woke from this--that was, if he ever did--he was drenching himself in a stinging shower of scolding hot water. That would feel _so _nice. But, then again, maybe he was going to die in this cold, confusing mess that was consuming him. He hoped not, but who knew?

The beeping and the voices were gone now, and the cold was back, surrounding him. There was no comforting, warm touch on his hand, he could no longer see a thing around him. Another vision was about to start, the fourth since he had collapsed in the foyer. He let it take him, didn't fight it as the cold and the dark started to consume him and the once blank area around him started to fade into another scene, another memory that he would have to unwillingly watch, surrounded by the cold, cold, cold.

* * *

Piper held onto her son's limp hand tightly, waiting for his unmoving fingers to curl and grip hers. She couldn't leave him, she couldn't look away from his face, waiting, begging, for his jade eyes to open up and look at her once again. He was covered in sweat, skin as white as a sheet, except for the faint circles under his eyes. He was hooked up to numerous machines, tubes running up his nose, his hands, his stomach. He had stopped breathing moments after he collapsed, her baby had stopped _breathing_. That moment between when her husband was frantically holding up their son's torso, trying to get him to breathe as she waited for the ambulance to arrive--the moment that seemed to last an eternity for her--had been the scariest moment of her life. Now, her fear had died down a little, watching with some ease as her youngest son's chest rose and fell like it should, but it was still there, still a prominent emotion that would not leave her alone until her baby opened his eyes and looked at her, spoke to her again. He was in a coma, a _coma. _The doctors had done tests trying to figure out what had caused it, and their answer had been a persistent idiopathic fever, which her husband had quickly explained meant that they really had no clue what was causing it. So now here she sat, a day later, youngest son laying unconscious, unmoving, her husband and her oldest son sitting next to her as the rest of her family surrounded them.

Phoebe and Paige stood on the other side of the room as they listened to Leo explain what was going on, all sets of eyes traveling over to Chris every few moments. Leo was talking about what the doctors had told them now, how they really had no clue what had caused it, though the whole family seemed to have a pretty good idea of what had.

"So," Paige started, eyeing her comatose nephew with concern before looking back towards Leo, "do you think it was the clan that did this to him?" They had eventually discovered the name of the clan--the Cornu--and were about to go after them until their nephew had orbed back in, practically unable to walk, and collapsed on the floor of the foyer. He had a few bruises here and there, and they had found a few vials of the same vanquishing potion that they had just made for the clan. Oddly enough, Chris had gone demon hunting and had beat them to vanquishing the clan that was after him.

"I still can't believe he took care of that clan all by himself," Phoebe mused aloud, eyes falling down to her nephew. She spotted a few of the forming bruises on his arms and she was still stunned that after destroying over ten demons he had only come out with just a few bruises ... well, he was in a coma, so maybe he had come out with a lot worse.

"And when he wakes up," Piper added from her spot next her son, still holding the boy's limp hand tight, "I'm going to kill him for being such an idiot." Her eyes fell onto Chris' face and she spoke directly to him, "You hear that Chris, you're in big trouble, mister. Wake up so I can kill you for being such an idiot."

"If he vanquished them all then how could the Cornu have done this to him?" Wyatt asked from his seat next to his father, looking from Leo to his aunts before gazing at his brother and repeating the same phrase in his head he had been thinking since this whole mess began: _You stupid freaking idiot. _It was directed towards his comatose brother, the dumb kid who decided to go vanquish a clan of demons on his own without even telling anybody. What was he thinking? Was he _trying _to get himself killed? Well, there you go Chris, you got pretty damn close to it, didn't you? He was so pissed at his brother and his stupidity but at the same time he was scared. Scared that his brother wouldn't wake up, scared that this time his stupidity would get him killed. Why hadn't he at least called Zooey to go with him? Chris knew that demon hunting alone was a stupid thing to do, especially taking on a clan of demons with high power in the Underworld. Something was clouding his judgement when he decided to do that. Maybe the alcohol he had smelled on his breathe before Chris orbed off home, maybe his lack of sleep, maybe even something else, the something else they could not figure out. After all of his and Peyton's snooping, after trying to sort through all of the weird thoughts, they still were not anywhere closer to figuring out what was going on. They were even more confused then before. Chris better wake up, he better so he and his mom, his dad, his aunts, his uncles and cousins could all kill him from be such an idiot. Then after the rage was gone, and they knew Chris was alright, they could all let out a sigh of relief because they would have Chris back, the _stupid freaking idiot._

"No clue," Paige responded with a shrug as she looked towards Phoebe, seeing if she had any ideas. When Phoebe gave a shrug as well, Paige turned back to Wyatt and Leo and exclaimed, "Well then, time to start looking through the Book for answers!"

Phoebe looked over towards her older sister, her empathy forcing her to feel a wave of worry and concern and fear radiating off her. Sure, the whole room was filled with those emotions, and Piper and Leo's were of course the strongest, but she knew how Piper's relationship with Chris had started to fall apart, much to her dismay. She wanted him to wake up so bad, she wanted to just sit down and talk with him, figure out what was really happening, hear from him that he did not hate her, that what she had assumed was all a lie. It broke Phoebe's heart to see her sister like this. Seeing Chris like this was pulling at everyone, but Piper and Leo the most. They had all already lost him once--the twenty-two-year-old version of him--and the looming fear that they could lose him again, and at such a young age, scared them all to no end.

Leo was radiating rage along with the emotions Piper was giving off. If he still had his powers, if he was still an Elder, he would go down to the Underworld and kill every demon he could find. He would go on a rampage until he could find who or what had done this to his son and then kill it as painfully as he could. Leo had turned into quite a protective father when it came to both Chris and Wyatt. Ever since the other Chris told him about his lack of parenting skills when it came to the brunette boy, he had been determined to change himself, and he had. It wasn't fair for Chris to be taken away from him now, not when he had worked so hard to turn into the father that his youngest son deserved. The other Chris had worked so hard to make this world better, to give his family and _himself _a better life, and it wasn't fair if it was taken away from him at the young age of sixteen.

"We're going to find out who did this to him," Phoebe spoke up, causing both Leo and Piper to let their gaze move from their youngest son to her, "He's going to wake up and everything is going to be alright." A pause, Phoebe's gaze falling onto her nephew. Tubes connected to his nose, his stomach, his hands. Skin pale white, body motionless, sweat covering his forehead. This wasn't supposed to be happening. The other Chris had worked so hard to make this world better, and he had, and he should not be suffering now because of it. _Chris, _she thought to herself, eyes never leaving her nephew,_ I promise we'll get you out of there, I promise. _

Wyatt suddenly stood up from his seat, causing all sets of eyes to look his way, "I'm going to head home for a bit," he declared, eyes scanning each person in the room before landing back on his parents, waiting for the silent nod of approval from either one of them. When his father gave him the nod and an 'okay' Wyatt disappeared in a swirl of orbs. He wasn't _actually_ going home like he said, he wasn't going to just sit there like his parents were while Chris was stuck like that. He was going to figure out what was causing this, terrorize every demon in the Underworld until he got his answer. No one messed with his brother and got away with it. Instead of being an idiot like his brother and heading down there alone, he was going to enlist the help of a fellow witch and follow the one rule his parents and aunts had been so strict about since the first day they started demon hunting.

When he reappeared in the bedroom of his younger cousin the girl merely looked up from her place on the bed with a curious raised eyebrow. Textbooks were scattered on the comforter, pencil in her hand and headphones in her ears. She pulled out the headphones and let them drop onto her textbook with a faint clack.

"Wyatt," she started, sitting herself up, "what are you doing here?" A pause, Peyton's thoughts falling onto the vision of her other cousin in that hospital bed, tubes and wires connected to his weak, pale body. She still couldn't believe he was really in a coma. The cocky, paranoid, neurotic older cousin who jibed her constantly was reduced to that unmoving, weak body lying on that bed, "I thought you were going to stay with Chris at the hospital?"

"I can't sit there anymore," Wyatt exclaimed as he instantly started pacing the room, a hand flying up to his head as he pushed back strands of hair, "I can't just watch him be like that when I could be doing something." He paused and stopped his pacing before he let out a huff of breath and let his hand fall to his side, "I have to save him."

"Wyatt," Peyton started, adjusting herself on the bed, "we don't even know what's wrong with him--"

"He's my little brother, Peyton," he cut his younger cousin off somewhat harshly, "I _have_ to save him," Wyatt let out a small laugh, his lips curling up into a faint smile, "It's my job."

Ever since they were little kids it had always been Wyatt's job to fix every bad thing that happened to his brother. He was pushed off the swing in the park by the little brat next door, Wyatt would help his brother up and make sure he was okay, then push that little asshole who hurt him just as hard, maybe even worse. He was picked on in kindergarten by a group of five little boys who called him names and threw tennis balls at him at recess, Wyatt came right up and threw them right back, usually with a better aim. No one hurt his brother, and if they did, he was the one who would fix it. That's what big brothers do, his mother had told him that at a young age. He was supposed to protect Chris, watch over the brunette with a careful eye, and he did. Even as they got older, even if Chris didn't want him to fight his battles anymore, he was always keeping an eye on Chris, always making sure his brother was staying out of trouble and wasn't getting picked on. Of course, lately, Chris had been harder to keep track of. His younger brother had taken up blocking him from sensing him pretty much all of his waking hours as well as keeping to himself and disappearing more often. Still, he did know what Chris was up to. The kids he hung out with, all of the parties Chris ended up going to, Wyatt would always show up on occasion. He'd keep a good eye on him for a while, leaving before he was even seen. If he didn't go to the party, he heard about it from the many sources he had at school.

Peyton gave a smile at that, completely understanding where Wyatt was coming from. Though she didn't have a younger sibling, her and her twin had a relationship somewhat like that as well.

"I know, Wyatt," she started, eyes falling down to her unfinished homework and an open textbook before continuing, "but I think Chris was in way over his head, and so will we. Maybe we should let our parents handle it this time?"

Wyatt let out an irritated sigh and paced back and forth a few steps, "Fine," he turned his gaze her way, "if you don't want to help me, then I'll just do it by myself."

"No!" Peyton protested quickly, eyes going a bit wide, "I know you, and you're going to orb yourself right into the Underworld and get yourself killed!" She didn't even have to read his mind to figure out that was his intentions. The look on his face had clearly given it away, and besides, she knew her cousin. Both he and Chris were a bit reckless like that--something they'd surely need to grow out of before they took over demon hunting from their parents completely.

"So will you help me?" he asked, crossing his arms and letting a small smirk curl on his lips, knowing full well his cousin's answer before she even spoke it.

"Dammit," the girl huffed as she slammed her textbooks shut and stood up from the bed. She caught onto her older cousin's smirk instantly and pointed a stiff finger his way, "And don't give me that smirk. If we're going to do this together, then we're going to actually do this in an organized--not reckless and stupid--way."

Wyatt instantly rolled his eyes at that, but Peyton continued on, "We're going to look through the Book, find some leads--clans or demons that are close to the Cornu--then go down and interrogate them, _then_ vanquish them." She could tell Wyatt seemed annoyed at her plan, and she knew why. Wyatt just wanted to terrorize them, put them in pain and make everyone suffer just like the family and his brother was, but that was no way to solve their problem. Wyatt's emotions were clouding his judgement--which is another reason why she though that their parents should handle it. Going down there filled with rage and ideas of revenge would not get anything done. If Wyatt truly wanted to save his brother he'd have to push his emotions behind him until they got the information they needed, then Peyton would be glad to kick some demon ass along side him. She, too, felt a rage towards the demons (or demon) that had done this to her cousin.

"Are we agreed on this?" she asked, watching as Wyatt's gaze wandered to the floor as he contemplated the idea. He knew her plan was the right way to go about it, but all he felt like doing right then was hurting every and any demon that could have some clue as to what had happened to his brother--which would be most all since he was a Halliwell. Though this would satisfy his need for a sort of revenge against the scum that made up the Underworld, it would not help his brother. Yet again, Peyton was right, and he knew being reckless and letting his emotions take over would not bring any good. But _damn_, did he want to kick some demon ass.

His eyes darted up and met hers as he let out a somewhat reluctant reply, "Yes."

The girl gave a smile at this and made her way towards her cousin, "Good," she grabbed onto his arm and looked up his way, "Shall we get started, then? The sooner we get our information, the sooner we can vanquish the asshole that hurt Chris."

Wyatt gave a smirk at that and nodded before the two disappeared in a swirl of blue and white, ready and willing more than ever to fight his way to an answer. It was his job, and he would not fail at it. He would _never_ let himself fail at it.

* * *

Thank you all so much for reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I can't wait to hear your feedback on it!

I will get the next chapter up as soon as I get it done (I will start it soon, I promise!)

Thank you all again for reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

:)


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas! **

Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter! I'm glad you all liked it and I hope you all review again for this one!

Sorry if the wait was too long, I hope the length makes up for that. I had so much time to write because of all of the snow that has been pounding down on my state. I highly doubt we'll have school tomorrow, maybe even the whole week (Yay! Ten day weekend for my birthday on Sunday!) and I will start with the next chapter tomorrow :)

In the meantime, enjoy the new chapter! I hope to hear what you think of it!

* * *

"I don't know anything, I swear!" The fanged demon replied with a yelp, eyes wide and fear struck as he stared right into the brown eyes of the Twice-Blessed. The witch had a telekinetic hold on his neck and had pushed him hard into the walls of the cave, demanding answers that he was not allowed to share. Yes, he was lying about not knowing anything--the whole Underworld knew why the Source and Seer were after the second son of the eldest Charmed One--but a punishment by the Halliwell boy would be much less painful and much less _permanent_ than a punishment by the Source himself.

Wyatt turned his head to look towards Peyton, who stood behind him, arms crossed as she stared at the demon. She had been going through his mind the whole time and knew he was lying. She couldn't get a thought about what the actual plan was and what had happened to her cousin, but she got enough to know he was definitely lying to them. Her eyes locked with Wyatt and she simply stated, "He's lying."

"That's what I thought," Wyatt said as he turned his head back towards the demon, temper instantly rising. Wyatt pushed the demon hard against the wall, causing Peyton to jump a little behind him. She had never seen her cousin so angry before, it was completely new to her. She knew the only reason he was so worked up was because of Chris. Two more days had passed since he had fallen into that coma and still there was no sign of him waking up. Wyatt was getting impatient, the family's worry and stress levels were rising tenfold. They were searching the Book whenever they had a free moment, locating possible demons and trying different spells and potions to attempt to wake Chris up. None of it worked. Whoever did this to Chris must be a rather powerful, upper-level demon if the Power of Three couldn't even bring him back. A part of her thought that those weird thoughts she had read off of Chris had something to do with it, that maybe all of that combined with whatever the demon had done to him had made him fall into that state, but she didn't know.

"Now," Wyatt started, pressing the demon's back hard into the cave wall as he tightened his grip on his neck, "Stop lying to me and tell me what I want to know and I'll let you leave here _alive_."

"Anything you do to me will be far less painful than what the Source would do if I told you anything," the demon spat out as he kicked and struggled to free himself from Wyatt's telekinetic grip. He would take whatever the Twice-Blessed would do to him. He had to stay loyal to the Source.

"You wanna bet?" Wyatt questioned, voice harsh and stern. His grip tightened and the demon started struggling, kicking and wrapping his hands around his neck, trying to find a way to stop it. Wyatt walked up to the demon, eyes never straying away from his jet black eyes. He summoned an energy ball in his left hand and held it up close for the demon to see, "Now, tell me what you know or I'll make sure to make your death as painful as possible, you son of a bitch._" _Wyatt loosened his grip enough so that the demon could utter the words that would save his life.

Instead of what Wyatt and Peyton were hoping to hear, the demon started to laugh--a dark, demented, cynical laugh that caused Wyatt's blood to boil, "_'Son of a bitch?'" _he questioned with a small smirk, "Aw, Wyatt, now that's no way to treat a future ally--well, that is if your brother gives the Source what he needs, of course."

Wyatt and Peyton instantly lost their threatening demeanors as they stared at the demon in confusion, both clueless as to what the fanged demon was talking about. They both didn't understand. Why would the Source be involved in this? What would he want with Chris?

"What are you talking about?" Wyatt asked, eyes narrowing as he caught the demon letting out another laugh, that fanged smirk still shining wide at them. He pushed the demon harder into the wall, his smirk and laughter instantly disappearing, "What does the Source want with my brother?" The demon just stared back at him, a small smirk rising yet again on his lips, but gave no answer. Wyatt slammed him harder into the wall, causing pieces of the rock to crumble to the ground, "_Answer me!"_

The demon let out another laugh at Wyatt's demand, black eyes falling down to look straight at the witches, "Losing your temper and taking out your frustrations on me is no way to get information, _Halliwell." _the fanged demon spat, "Besides, my loyalties lie with the Source. I'd never betray him by telling you any more than I already have."

Wyatt tightened his grip on the demon and raised the energy ball higher and closer to his chest, "You sure you don't want to rethink that answer?"

The demon stared him down, black eyes locking with Wyatt's brown ones. The young boy was filled with rage, and this the demon liked. If what the rumors about this dark version of reality, the version where this witch ruled over all of the country, he could tell why this boy would make a great Ruler of All Evil, "Positive," the demon replied, smirking, "but I anxiously await the day when the Source and the Seer's plan is completed. Your angry," a pause, "_excites_ me, Halliwell."

Wyatt's eyes narrowed and his grip tightened on the demon's neck, "Burn in _hell."_ With one quick motion of his hand, the energy ball was thrust into the demon's chest and Peyton watched from behind as the demon was consumed in a mass of flames, face contorted in pain as he let out a horrific yelp.

Wyatt turned his head to look towards his cousin, all the anger and rage that had once contorted his features seconds ago gone. Peyton's eyes wandered up to meet her cousins, flashing signs of worry and confusion as she made her way towards Wyatt, "What did Chris get himself into?" Her eyes fell onto the remains of the demon Wyatt had just vanquished, that sickening laugh and his cryptic responses still floating around her head.

"I don't know," Wyatt replied, eyes falling down to where Peyton was looking, still trying to wrap his mind around what they had learned so far that day, "But we're going to find out." That had been the third demon they had interrogated and killed. The first had been silent about what he knew, and Wyatt had quickly vanquished him after finding out that he would get no information from the upper-level demon. The second had spoken cryptic, taunting phrases, the Source and Seer were both brought up as well, but what they wanted with Chris, Wyatt didn't know. Then this demon, Jinx was his name, had brought _him _into the equation, confusing both him and Peyton even more. All he knew was that his idiot brother had gotten himself in way over his head somehow, and the freaking Source _and _Seer were after him for something. Whatever secrets his brother had been keeping apparently were going to end up getting him killed. He would stop that from happening, of course--no one hurt his brother without having to pay for it--but if Chris hadn't kept the secrets in the first place maybe things wouldn't have gotten so bad.

"Let's go," Wyatt turned her way and grabbed her arm, but felt a sudden tug from the girl as she pushed away.

"Wyatt," she started as she freed her arm from his grip, "we've been hunting upper-level demons for three days now and this is all we've found out so far." Wyatt looked a little annoyed at her outburst, but he too knew it was true, "I think these demons are too loyal to tell us anything about what is going on." Wyatt opened his mouth to argue, but Peyton quickly held up her hand to stop him and went on, "If we want to see Chris awake again sooner then I think we should start going after lower-level, more easily bribed demons." She paused, noticing Wyatt's expression changing as he contemplated the idea, "If the Seer and the Source are really involved, I bet that whole Underworld has a pretty good idea of what's going on, especially if Chris' name is involved."

Wyatt's eyes travelled back over towards the remains of the demon before looking back over at his cousin, "Guess you've got a point there," Wyatt told her, motioning his hand over towards the remains of the demon, "He was the first demon to tell us anything of use--barely anything--after three days." He paused and finally gave a nod, agreeing with her, "Let's start looking for demons then."

"But first," Peyton exclaimed as Wyatt grabbed her arm, "we should take a break. We've been hunting ever since school ended." A pause, "And besides, we should tell our parents what we've found out. Maybe that will help them find a spell or potion that could wake him up."

Wyatt gave a reluctant sigh and replied, "Fine." He didn't believe they had time for a break. The more they looked, the sooner they'd find out what happened to Chris and the faster he'd wake up. That was the way he saw it, but his parents and family were all urging him to not overexert himself. His father had reminded him that nothing could happen to Chris while he was in there, that he was safe, and had joked rather weakly that he didn't want to see his oldest son end up like that as well. Wyatt wouldn't believe that Chris was safe until this whole demon mess was taken care of and his brother opened his eyes and started spitting out sarcasm left and right. God, he never thought he'd be saying this, but he really missed his brother's jibes ... He really missed his brother.

* * *

"How's that spell coming?" Paige asked from her spot on the couch--a spot that she had practically been calling her home for the last few days--as she looked through the Book, trying to find another thing that could maybe wake up her nephew. For the past three days they had been working on spells and potions that they believed could bring Chris back to them. The ones they had tried so far--three spells from the Book and four potions--had failed miserably, much to the families disappointment. They had decided to try another Power of Three spell--they believed that it may be powerful enough to bring him back if they worded it exactly right.

Phoebe looked up from the pad she was writing on from across the room, "Still trying to get the wording right, but it'll be done soon." She looked back down towards the pad and jotted something down quickly before looking back over towards Paige, "Find anymore potions we should try?"

Paige shook her head and slammed her hands down onto the open pages of the Book, "Nothing in here that would help," she shut the Book and placed it down on the empty seat next to her with a plop, "I'm going to check the Magic School library and bring back more potion books. There's got to be _something _that can wake someone up from a magic-induced coma."

Paige stood up from her seat and added, "I'm going to check on them at the hospital quickly. Maybe convince Piper to come back to the Manor and get some sleep." Both sisters were worried about Piper. Ever since Chris ended up in the hospital she hadn't left his side. She had fought with the staff of the hospital when they told her that visiting hours were over and had scared them so much by her anger that they all agreed to let her stay. Both sisters understood why she didn't want to leave him and knew they would probably act the same way if it was their own children. Even then the two sisters were checking on Chris as much as they could--the whole family was in a state of depression over his comatose state.

Phoebe gave a silent nod at this and watched as her sister disappeared in a swirl of blue and white orbs. She quickly looked back down towards the verses she had written down for the spell, reading them over once again, before letting out a sigh and throwing the pad onto the table next to her. She was trying so hard to make this spell as powerful as possible but she just wasn't sure if it would work. Nothing else had so far and those potions and spells had been pretty powerful as well. Whatever had caused Chris to end up like this was much more powerful than they thought. If this Power of Three spell didn't work then she would really start to worry. If whatever did this to him was _that _powerful then she wasn't sure if they could bring him back with a simple potion or spell. They'd just have to wait for him to wake up or find a much more powerful way to bring him out of it. She was hoping that Wyatt and Peyton had found out something down in the Underworld. Wyatt said he had looked up a few demons who he believed would give them what they needed to know and she hoped that they had found out something. The past few days they had sadly come up with barely anything, which had really frustrated Wyatt to no end. He and Peyton had interrogated so many demons but had found out really nothing of use. Wyatt had always been the protective brother and when anything happened to Chris he was always there to fix it quickly and easily. This, though, was turning out to be harder than he thought, and that's what made him so frustrated.

The jingle of orbs quickly caught Phoebe's attention and she looked towards the middle of the room and watched as Peyton and Wyatt appeared from the blue and white orbs. Peyton instantly plopped down on the couch as Wyatt quickly went for the Book. The younger girl rolled her eyes at this and watched as Wyatt hastily began flipping through the pages. They were supposed to be taking a _break,_ but apparently Wyatt couldn't grasp that concept. Her cousin was going to work himself to death at this rate.

"Did you find out anything?" Phoebe asked from her spot across the room, causing Peyton to look her way and Wyatt to quickly glance up towards her between pages.

"Yes, actually, we finally found out something," Peyton started, sitting herself up straight in her seat. Her eyes quickly glanced over to Wyatt, to see if he'd be joining in on the conversation, but the older witch just kept flipping through the pages of the Book, looking intently for their next target, "The Source and the Seer are after Chris."

Phoebe's eyes widened and a look of disbelief fell over her face as she leaned forward in her chair, "What?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing. The Source _and _the Seer? This was much bigger than any of them could have ever imagined, "What do they want with him?"

Peyton shrugged, "No clue. They didn't say what, but he has something they want apparently." Wyatt closed the Book with a loud thump, causing both Peyton and Phoebe to look his way. He stood up from his seat and placed the Book down on the couch.

"We're going to find out what right now," his eyes fell onto Peyton and the girl let out a reluctant sigh. He knew she wanted to have a break, but they just didn't have _time. _If what that demon said was true then they needed to get looking quick. His brother was in danger until they found out what it was they wanted and stopped them from getting it. If he could, he'd go to the Source and the Seer right then and vanquish their asses, but he wasn't strong enough to do that without some aid.

"What about the break we were going to take?" Peyton asked, arms crossed. They'd been demon hunting practically nonstop the last few days and they needed to just relax for a bit, especially Wyatt. He'd been at it probably longer than her and she was pretty positive that he was orbing down to the Underworld at all hours of the day--alone--to find out what was going on. He was a really good brother but he wouldn't be any use to Chris if he wore himself out so fast.

"We don't have _time, _Peyton," Wyatt insisted sternly.

"Wyatt, maybe you should listen to Peyton on this one," Phoebe urged from her place across the room, causing the teenager to turn and look her way, "You two have been at it for hours now and you should at least have a small break."

Wyatt's gaze travelled from Phoebe to Peyton and after a brief moment of thought he let out a sigh and reluctantly gave in, "Fine." Peyton features brightened at this, thankful that she could have some well needed down time, "But you only get an hour, then after that we're going to start right back up again, and I mean exactly an hour." Wyatt plopped back down on the couch and grabbed up the Book, "I'm going to keep looking for targets."

Phoebe and Peyton both shared a look but knew they couldn't persuade Wyatt anymore than they had. He was determined to fix this and worried about his brother. He wouldn't stop until he found out what the Seer and Source wanted with Chris and his younger brother woke up. All the men in the Halliwell-Wyatt family were like that. They were determined and would not rest until things were fixed. Leo, on many occasions, had shown Phoebe and her sister's that determination. She had witnessed Chris displaying that trait when he came back from the dark version of their future--determined to save Wyatt at all costs, even his own life. And now, Wyatt was trying to save Chris. The brother that once needed saving himself was now playing the savior.

* * *

_It was a Friday night and a fifteen year old Chris sat in the kitchen of the Manor, swirling his spoon around in milk and cereal. It wasn't the most amazing dinner he'd ever had but he wasn't the best cook and he and Wyatt neglected to go grocery shopping that week. They had also neglected to clean the house--the sink was piled up with dirty dishes and pots that had been needing a cleaning since the beginning of the week but neither boy had gotten to it. Wyatt was never around anymore and Chris had been spending most of his time at the hospital up until a few weeks ago. His grandfather had died and now there he sat, all alone in the dimly lit kitchen that was starting to reek of rotten food. He remembered when every Friday night the whole family would get together for dinner, when his mother was alive, before his grandfather was diagnosed with cancer, before everything he knew disappeared and his life changed to this._

_Chris scooped up a spoonful of cereal and milk and stuffed it in his mouth. The cereal was too soggy now and Chris scrunched up his features as he reluctantly swallowed. The soft hum of laughter and voices could be heard coming from the television in the other room. Chris had left it on. He needed something to fill up the silence that always seemed to surround him now, he needed to not feel so alone. No, he wasn't alone, he had his family, but he didn't like to bother his aunts and uncles. They had their own lives, own families, and he didn't want to burden them. Whenever he was around them it was like they felt they needed to treat him like he was some fragile thing. It was like they thought he was some broken, pitiful kid that they needed to treat with extreme caution. One false move and he'd completely fall apart. _

_Chris' eyes fell onto the pill bottle that sat on the counter as he dipped his spoon back into the bowl. He was supposed to take those now. His aunts had been worried about him, since he seemed to be surrounded by _death--_that was apparently rather unhealthy for someone his age--so they decided to take him to see a shrink. That's where he was diagnosed with depression and that was why he had to take those stupid pills _and_ that's why they've been treating him even more like he was made of glass._

_The faint jingle of orbs caught Chris' attention and the teenager let out an annoyed sigh. He wasn't in the mood for a visit from either of his nagging aunts and he especially wasn't in the mood to see his _father. _He turned his head to look towards where the sound had come from and was surprised to see not his father or aunts standing near the door frame, but Wyatt, his absent brother. Chris watched as Wyatt's eyes travelled around the room, taking in the piled up pots and dishes, the stench of the rotten food in the fridge, the food stains that covered the counters and stove, and finally, Chris._

"_Jesus Christopher," Wyatt exclaimed, making his way more into the room, "look at this place!" He lifted his hands up and motioned around the room. He had heard his brother hadn't been handling losing their grandfather too well and he'd fallen into a depression but he didn't imagine it to be this bad. Chris always liked things to be somewhat neat, and if the kitchen looked like this, Wyatt didn't even _want _to see the rest of the house. He really should have checked up on his brother more, he'd just been a bit ... preoccupied. _

"_I'll clean up tomorrow," Chris responded, turning his attention back to the soggy bowl of cereal in front him, gliding his spoon through the milk, "I've just been busy." He had actually been busy. He'd been attending school (unlike Wyatt), trying to catch up on all the work he missed from skipping to stay with his grandfather, and going to see that dumb shrink because his aunts were forcing him. He had no idea why Wyatt had stopped attending school and had no idea what he was doing instead, but he was getting suspicious. His personality was changing dramatically and Chris felt like he was losing his brother. They used to be so close but now they barely even talked. Sure, his brother still cared about him, but they just didn't talk like they used to anymore. _

_Wyatt slid into the seat adjacent from his brother and watched as the younger Halliwell swirled his spoon around in the cereal and milk. His brother's hair was greasy and disheveled and looked like it hadn't been combed or washed in ages, the bags under his eyes gave away the fact that he hadn't been sleeping and from what Wyatt could see he hadn't been one for eating those days either._

"_Too busy to take care of yourself, apparently," Wyatt said, watching as his brother's jade eyes snapped up his way. He sent an annoyed and irritated look his way, his hand stopping its constant swirling of the spoon, "Chris, you look like shit."_

_The younger boy scoffed, "Oh, thanks Wy." His eyes travelled back down to the soggy cereal and he dropped his spoon into his bowl, "Sorry, I just haven't cared about how I've looked lately," he added with sarcasm, eyes darting back up to Wyatt, "I've had other things on my mind."_

_Wyatt let out a sigh and rested his elbows against the table, "Chris, you've got to take care of yourself." He urged his brother, his voice almost taking on a pleading tone. He should have checked up on him more, his brother really needed him and he had let his other duties get in the way._

"_I know," the younger Haillwell confessed softly, eyes falling back down onto the soggy cereal, "It's just--" he paused and ran a hand through his unkempt hair, gripping it in clumps near the end, "everything's gone to shit." Another pause and Wyatt watched as the emotions his brother had been holding in began to shine through his jade eyes, "M-Mom's gone, Grandpa's dead, and dad--_Leo _failed us yet again ... nothing's the way it was supposed to be."_

_A silence fell over the two brothers, both sets of eyes falling to the table. The two hadn't really spoken or seen each other much since Piper's death--partly because Wyatt felt he was the cause of it--and they had both been watching as the life they once knew crumbled and turned into the life that they were living now. They had been so close before, Wyatt would have dropped everything to help his brother, but everything had changed now. He was working on fixing it though--fixing everything. All of his months spent away from home he had been working on a way to change this world, to make it better for everyone, including his brother._

"_Everything's going to change, Chris," Wyatt proclaimed, breaking the silence as he decided to share his hope with his brother. The younger Halliwell looked up his way, features creasing with confusion, "Things are going to all be different soon enough." A pause as a smirk stretched over Wyatt's features, "This whole world is going to be different."_

"_... What are you doing Wyatt?" Chris asked after a pause. Studying his brother's features, that sickening smirk and those devilish shinning eyes, really frightened him. His brother was up to something and from his look it wasn't something good. Wyatt had always shinned that look when he did something deviant when he was a kid, like orbing their cousins to different continents. Every since he was a little kid Wyatt was always for deviance and somewhat cruel pranks._

_His older brother stood up from his seat and announced, "I've get to get going. I'll be back to check up on you later." He brushed the wrinkles out of his jeans as Chris watched, suspicion growing._

_Chris stood up from his seat, a suspicious and questioning look gracing his features as Wyatt glanced around the kitchen, taking in the horrific sight of dirty pots and dishes stacked up high and the stench of rotten food, "Wyatt--" _

"_Clean this up before I get back, Christopher," Wyatt cut him off with an order as he crossed his arms and let his eyes land back on Chris, "And finish that cereal," his finger pointed down towards the bowl, eyes never leaving Chris, "and also, take a shower."_

"_Wyatt--"_

_Wyatt cut him off once again, voice taking on a somewhat harsh tone, "Goodbye Christopher." With that, Wyatt's form began to turn into a jingling swirl of blue and white orbs. Chris' features creased as he watched his older brother began to vanish, anger and suspicion rising._

"_No!" Chris yelled, reaching his hand out and grabbing onto the orbs, causing his brother to began to reappear and fall with a hard thump to the floor. The older Halliwell's expression had quickly taken on anger as he stared at his younger brother with narrowed eyes. Chris had never seen his brother look like that before and had never seen an angry expression like that ever sent his way. It was almost frightening, but Chris didn't let his expression flatter. "What are you up, Wyatt?! What have you done?!" Wyatt grabbed onto the table and pushed himself up from the ground, eyes never leaving his younger brother. He quickly grabbed his brother's collar and pushed him into the wall behind them with tremendous force. Chris didn't let his angry expression fall but felt more fear than ever for his brother as he stared straight into the older boy's brown eyes, feeling the tight grip that Wyatt had on his shirt as he tightened his fist and pulled more of the fabric._

"_Don't you ever do that again Christopher!" Wyatt hissed at his brother as he placed his other hand against the wall, banging it hard and causing the younger Halliwell to jump, "I don't have to tell you _anything_, you understand me?!" He slammed Chris' back hard against the wall, causing the teenager's eyes to go wide, "You _understand _me!?"_

"_Yes!" Chris replied, nodding his head, "I understand! Now let me go!" Chris brought his hands up and began to push against his brother's chest with force. Wyatt quickly loosening his grip and let his brother push him away, the older boy stumbling back a bit before he regained his footing. Wyatt instantly felt bad about what he had done, he never meant to get so rough with his brother, but the kid really ticked him off when he redirected his orbs. He wouldn't apologize though, he wouldn't let his anger flatten. He needed to keep a strong and tough demeanor, he had to stand his ground with his brother, even if it hurt him a little to see Chris shine that hidden fear in his jade eyes._

"_Good," Wyatt said as Chris stared at him with a hardened glare, "I'll see you later, Christopher." Wyatt's form transformed into blue and white orbs and Chris watched as his brother vanished, arms crossed and glare hard, and he obeyed his brother. He didn't try to stop him, instead he just let him go._

The vision faded and the cold was gone and Chris felt himself rise up from the depths of his visions. He could hear the beeping of the monitor again and felt his body warm up. He tried to move a finger, open his eyes, but none of it worked. He still could not get himself out of his own head. He tried and tried so hard every time he was brought back close to reality but nothing worked. In a few minutes--or even seconds--he would be pulled back down into that cold, cold place and go through another vision. It was like he was being drowned. The second he'd escape the cold depths of the water, the second he'd try to suck in air, he'd be pushed right back down, failing to breathe. He needed to find a way out of his own head, he needed to find a way to escape whatever hold this thing had on him. He was hoping that his family was trying to figure out how to wake him up. Maybe there was a potion or perhaps a spell they could write that could bring him back? Maybe not though, considering the Seer had been the one to do this time him. He was going to _vanquish_ that bitch once he got out of his own head.

"Chris ..." His father's voice started, followed by a sigh. This time it wasn't the father who neglected him, the father who let his mother die. Instead, it was his father. The father that was always there, that never missed a birthday or piano recital for some stupid Elder duties Up There. They were so different, the two Leo's. He didn't understand how they had ended up so different. The other Chris' was so neglectful, always putting his duties before his family, while _his _father was practically overbearing and overprotective, was always putting his family before his work at Magic School and was always there whenever they needed him. How could the same person be so _different_?

There was a small, sad laugh from his father, "You got yourself in way over your head this time, didn't you buddy?" Chris really couldn't deny that--well, he couldn't even agree with it because he was stuck inside his own head--but if he was awake, he probably would fight his father on that. It's not like he _knew _the Source and the Seer were involved in the Cornu's plan. He just went there to kill that murdering son of a bitch Valerian and he succeeded with that. He never thought that he--Chris Halliwell, not the Twice-Blessed--would be someone the Source and the Seer would be after. How was he supposed to know that?

"You shouldn't have gone down there alone, Chris," his father stated, voice somewhat depressed instead of the usual tone Chris would imagine that sentence to be spoken in. He pictured it more like how his mother would say it--screaming and scolding him, features creased in anger. He knew he had been an idiot going demon hunting by himself, but he didn't expect this to happen.

Another small, but weak, laugh escaped his father's lips as he continued, "You're so much like him--he was always taking everything on alone like this as well." Chris was confused by that. Who was his dad talking about? Chris was completely clueless. That cryptic sentence just left him with bemusement and blanks. There was no one that he could think of that could fit the _"him"_ that his father was taking about.

Chris felt a finger brush against his forehead, pushing strands of sweaty hair away from his sticky forehead, "I can't lose you too, Chris." His father's voice was practically quivering as he spoke that sentence, emotions that he'd barely ever seen his father show breaking through. There was a brief pause before his father spoke again, "I can't lose you again."

That struck something inside Chris. Valerian had said that the other him had come back in time and changed everything, prevented Wyatt from turning into that maniac that he became. The other Chris--the other him--must have met the Charmed Ones at some point, he must have been involved in their lives, it would have been the only way he could use the Book ... the time when his father was an Elder and his mom and aunts had a different Whitelighter, that must have been him. His father was talking about him (well, the other him). Oh God, he died. The other him _died. _Why didn't they ever tell him this? Why did his aunts and parents hide this from him? If he had known this nine months ago everything would have made so much more sense. This whole mess he was in wouldn't have been so confusing, he wouldn't have believed he was going crazy. They should have told him, they shouldn't have hid this from him.

Chris felt a sudden tug and instantly knew he was being pulled back down into another vision. As much as he didn't want to go back into the cold depths of that horrific version of reality, he didn't feel like fighting. This newly acquired information had kind of shocked him and he felt anger towards his parents for hiding it from him. Though he knew they probably had some reason for it, he just wished they had told him. He could have handled it. He felt his body emerge into the cold, the beeping disappear and his father's voice grow faint and mumbled. In seconds everything from his reality was gone again. He was drowning again, he was being forced down into the cold depths, struggling to breath, that one fact still stuck in the back of his mind.

They had known all about him. They had _known_.

* * *

Well, there you have it.

Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and will review, because I love to hear what you all think. It motivates me to write these faster and makes my day :)

I will update again as soon as I finish the next chapter, until then, thanks again for reading and I hope you all review!

:)


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas (you all should know this by now). :)**

Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter, I really appreciate it! I hope this super fast update and it's 7,000+ words will show my gratitude. I've been waiting to write this chapter for so long so it just came out super fast. :)

Enjoy! And _please_, review!

* * *

Piper and Leo sat next to Chris' bed, Leo's fingers wrapped around his wife's, grasping her hand tightly, as they both watched their son. It had been five days since all of this started, since Chris collapsed in their foyer, and the only difference in his condition had been the rise and fall of his temperature. At the moment it was 102 degrees. It had been 105 earlier that day but the doctor had upped his dosage of medication to help bring it back down. The beeping of the monitor had brought somewhat of a comfort to both the parents, giving them a constant reminder that their son's heart was beating and he was indeed alive. After five days filled with stress and depression, Piper and Leo didn't know how much more they could take. Every spell and potion that they tried just wouldn't work, and with the newly acquired information that the Source and the Seer were after Chris they didn't know if anything _would_ work. If either one of them had done this to him then they would need some powerful magic to bring him back. They both hoped that he would wake up that day, the same way they had hoped for the last four days. They sadly had a feeling they would be disappointed again that day as well.

The jingle of orbs quickly caught both Leo and Piper's attention. The two averted their gaze from their youngest son to watch the as Phoebe and Paige appeared from the blue and white orbs. Paige gave her sister and brother-in-law a comforting smile, instantly feeling the tension in the air, and decided to try to brighten the mood.

She held up a small vial containing a blue potion as she exclaimed, "We've conjured up another potion and this time I believe it may work." She shook the vial once again, all eyes falling onto the blue liquid inside, before she made her way over to Chris and looked towards Leo, "Could you help me lift his head up? The last time I tried to do this by myself I almost pulled out one of his tubes." She gave a small laugh at that, but she honestly didn't feel like it deserved it. She was talking about almost ripping out a tube from her comatose nephew--that wasn't really something that could give a good laugh.

Leo gave her a small smile and nod as he stood from his seat and made his way over to his son. He honestly didn't have any faith that this potion would work--all of the others they had tried hadn't--but he would give it a shot. He always held this small hope in his heart each time they tried a different spell or potion, praying that this one would bring him back. Each time he felt more and more disappointment and the hope became less prominent, but it was still always there.

As Paige and Leo got Chris positioned, Phoebe's eyes landed on her older sister. Piper's eyes were glued to her son and Phoebe didn't even need her empathy to tell what her sister was feeling. Her brown eyes looked so tired but a small twinkle of hope was shinning through. She wanted this to work, she wanted to see her son finally wake up so she could hug him and hear his voice again. Then, after that, she'd scold him for being such an idiot and going demon hunting alone. Phoebe knew that Chris would not get away from this without punishment, even given the circumstances. He broke one of the biggest rules that all three of the sisters stressed so much and this was exactly the reason why they did. You never knew what would happen during a demon hunt, there was always a chance something could go horribly wrong, and this time it had.

Phoebe made her way over to her sister, causing Piper to avert her gaze from her son and look towards her younger sister. She watched as Phoebe took a seat next to her, wearing a smile meant to comfort. It sadly didn't do much for Piper. The only thing that would really ease her worries would be to see Chris open his eyes once again.

"How are you doing, sweetie?" Phoebe asked, expressing her concern for her older sister. She looked so worn and Phoebe couldn't help but try to comfort her in some way.

"I'm doing alright," she replied, her eyes drifting back over to Chris. She watched as Paige and Leo chatted as her youngest sister pulled the cork off the bottle, trying to lighten the mood in any way possible. Her husband gave faint smiles but everyone in the room knew Paige's antics weren't really working.

Piper turned her gaze back over the Phoebe, "Have Wyatt and Peyton found anymore information on why the Seer and the Source are after Chris?"

"Not yet," Phoebe told her sister, "they're out demon hunting right now." She paused and studied her sister, feeling worry and depression radiating off her. Though those were all emotions that the whole family was feeling, Piper and Leo's were the strongest. She hated knowing that her sister and brother-in-law were in such turmoil over this. She hoped that they could get Chris to wake up with this potion, but Phoebe really doubted it. Whatever magic had done this to him, it was so much more powerful than they had expected. It still shocked her that the Seer and the Source were supposedly involved in it. She honestly never though they would go after Chris, she was thinking it would end up being Wyatt.

"This isn't going to work," Piper spoke up. Phoebe looked her way with a raised eyebrow, causing her older sister to clarify, "The potion. It's not going to be powerful enough."

"It may work," Phoebe responded, trying to convince herself to believe it as much as she was trying to convince Piper, "it's a pretty powerful potion." They had found it in a book from Magic School, and it seemed to be pretty powerful but in all honesty none of them thought it was powerful enough. They wouldn't give up though, they'd make every potion they had to until Chris woke up. They _couldn't _give up, they weren't going to just sit there and wait for something to happen, they had to keep trying.

"Alright," Paige said, causing both Phoebe and Piper to turn their gaze her way. The potion vial was now empty and Leo was gently laying Chris back down. "Let's see if this works." All eyes fell onto Chris and each set watched with a shimmer of hope. They could already picture what they wanted to happen in their mind's eyes. They saw Chris opening his eyes, they saw hugging and sighs of relief, and Piper then saw a strict talking to and grounding. Though she felt bad about grounding him right after he woke up, it was the only way she knew she could keep him in the house and safe. He would go to school, where Wyatt would keep an eye on him, then come home, where she, Leo, or Wyatt could watch him. She wasn't going to let anything like this happen again. She didn't want to see him like this again, and she definitely did not want to go through any more painful situations like this.

"What are we waiting for?" Phoebe asked, looking over to her younger sister. She hadn't made the potion so she had no idea what was supposed to happen or how they would know if it worked or not.

Paige's gaze shifted Phoebe's way as she replied, "For him to wake up, duh." Her eyes travelled back to her comatose nephew, studying his unmoving form, "I'd settle for even a wiggle of his finger." She added softly. She was dying for one of her potions to work. They had tried so many and she was just hoping that one of them would at least do _something _to help her nephew.

They all watched and waited for something to happen, studying Chris' features carefully. A twitch of his eye, a motion of his hand, _anything _would satisfy them. They all just wanted to see him do something other than lie there limp and motionless. A minute passed and the only movement they say was the rise and fall of his chest. His eyes didn't open, he didn't sit up, he didn't do anything. The potion didn't work and that small shimmer of hope disappeared from each set of eyes. Each member of the family averted their gaze away from the boy, feeling the hard sting of failure deep in their chests.

Leo took a seat on the bed next to his son and brought a hand up to his forehead. He turned his gaze briefly towards the sisters, "Well, he feels warmer than he did a minute ago," his eyes travelled back towards his son, "at least the potion did _something_ this time."

Paige let out an irritated sigh and crossed her arms, "Making him worse wasn't exactly what I was hoping the potion would do, Leo." She had really been hoping the potion would work this time and hearing that it made his fever rise didn't exactly make her feel any better.

"We can try another potion, Paige," Phoebe told her sister, trying to lift up her spirits. Paige was feeling pretty crummy knowing that her potion had done the exact opposite of what it was supposed to do. To be honest, she was also feeling pretty bad that nothing they had tried had woken Chris up. She had assured her sister and brother-in-law that they would get Chris to wake up, she had _promised_ Chris she'd get him out of there, and she would not let any of them down.

"Let me help you," Piper declared as she stood up from her seat, causing all three sets of eyes to turn their attention her way, "I can't sit here and wait for something to happen. I need to do something to help him." Her eyes travelled down to her husband as she added, "Will you stay here with him, Leo?"

"Of course," he replied, giving his wife a nod before he turned his gaze back to check up on Chris. He didn't know what he was expecting to see different but he was afraid of missing something. What if Chris moved his finger or twitched or wiggled his toes? He didn't want to miss any form of movement, he didn't want to miss any signs that would assuage his worry and assure him that his son was close to consciousness.

Piper made her way over to the bed and stared down at her son, studying his weak and sweaty features. A part of her wanted to stay and wait incase something happened, but she knew she could no longer do that. She needed to try to help her son, she needed to try to wake him up instead of just sit there and wait for it to happen. The odds of Chris just waking up from a magic-induced coma without any magical aid was very unlikely. She leaned down and planted a kiss on top of his warm forehead before turning her gaze over to Paige, motioning that she was ready to go.

"Alright," Paige nodded and moved herself in between Phoebe and Piper, placing one arm on Phoebe's shoulder and the other on Piper's, getting ready to orb them all to the attic.

"You'll call me if anything changes?" Piper asked her husband quickly, eyes flashing between her son and her husband.

Leo gave a nod and replied, "I will."

Piper gave her husband a smile before letting her eyes wander onto her son one last time as Paige and Phoebe said their goodbyes to Leo. She still felt a bit hesitant to leave her son but she could no longer just sit there when she could be helping him wake up. She cared so much for her child and she felt that the longer he was stuck like that the more her worry and depression would grow. She had a chance to help fix this and she was the mother. It was her job to care for her sick to child, to make everything better. Everytime Chris or Wyatt was sick she'd be the attentive and caring mother. Chris always seemed to be the one who was always getting sick. She had rarely seen her oldest child bed ridden like Chris had ended up many times when he was little. He had been the only child of hers to get the chicken pox--he had been four and she remembered how antsy he got when she wouldn't allow him to itch them. He had almost had a bout with the flu every year after the age of eight, and last year her son had had to suffer through a terrible case of the stomach flu. The stomach flu with Chris had been filled with a lot of vomiting mixed with sarcasm and fighting between both parents and child. By some miracle Wyatt had rarely ever caught a thing from Chris or any of the other children around him, and even when he did catch something it would never be as bad as it was with her youngest. Whenever her children were sick she'd cook for them, make them as comfortable as possible, and force medication down their throats as well as strict bed rest. Though they'd fight her to no end on the last two, she enforced her rules strictly and soon enough they would be better.

She would make sure that Chris got better from this as well, even if it wasn't a simple illness like the others she had faced before. She was the mother and she was supposed to make everything better, and she would.

* * *

The Underworld Markets were a mysterious and new place for Wyatt and Peyton. They had never been to this part of the Underworld and they both found it so odd to see demons acting like they would expect normal humans to. The two made their way through the crowds, hoods raised over their heads, keeping their features hidden from any demon that passed by. If any one of them caught a glimpse of Wyatt they'd instantly recognize him and then they'd be screwed. Sure, Wyatt was pretty strong, but he wasn't sure he could take on all of the demons surrounding him at once. He would be terribly outnumbered and with Peyton there his main concern would be to protect her.

The two made a quick left turn into an alley near them, Wyatt leading the way. He had found them a demon that he believed would be easily bribed and would tell them everything they needed to know. He owned a potion shop a little ways into the Markets and was rather well known for his potion making skills. Wyatt had brought with him a few rare potion ingredients for the demon, knowing that they would probably give them the best chance of getting the information that they needed. After a few more turns and a few near collisions with demons the two had made it to the demon's shop. They swiftly entered and took in the odd aroma that filled the air as they studied their surroundings, taking in every bit of information they could before letting their eyes settle to the counter. Peyton spotted the table bell that sat on the right of the counter and let out a small laugh. It reminded her of an average store, seeing a table bell.

Wyatt made his way up to the counter, followed by Peyton, and slammed his palm down on the bell, producing a sharp ringing sound that echoed through the store. The two waited and watched as they heard the mumbling of their target as he stumbled out from the back, reading a quick excerpt from a book before he closed it and threw it onto a counter near a cauldron. His black eyes wandered up to see who his customer was and he was greeted by no faces, but hooded figures. This instantly put him on alert and he slowed his pace a little, raising a curious eyebrow as he tried to get a glimpse of the figures.

As he finally made it to the counter and watched as the taller figure took off his hood the demon instantly went wide-eyed and backed up a bit. What was the older Halliwell brother doing in his shop? He quickly started up, trying to prevent himself from facing any attacks from the blonde boy, "What are you doing here?! I gave your brother the right potion, I swear! I didn't do anything to him." He was starting the stumble on words now, panic rising, thoughts drifting to all of the things he had heard the Twice-Blessed child was capable of, "It was just a blocking potion! It-It just prevented the use of the powers of e-empathy and telepathy on him!"

Wyatt's features creased in confusion and Peyton instantly spoke up, "He took a potion to block my powers!" she exclaimed, taking her hood off and sending a look Wyatt's way, "I knew it!" She had figured he had taken a potion to block her. Though she assumed he had made it himself, it did make sense that he came down here to get it. They weren't really any recipes for a potion that strong that she knew of in the Book.

"My brother's been here before?" Wyatt asked the demon, still showing his bemusement. As much as his brother hated all things magic he found it hard to fathom that he had willingly gone down into the Underworld ... well, actually, if it was for a way to stop Peyton and Aunt Phoebe then he could see why Chris would come. He didn't like people getting in his business. His brother sure did like his secrets ...

"Yes," Terry had calmed down a little, the panic that had once been shinning in his eyes dying down a little, "He came to get a potion and in exchange gave me a vial of Gypsy blood." They didn't seem to know what he was talking about so he was starting the believe that they hadn't come to hurt him, which was a big relief to him.

"Well then," Wyatt started after sharing a brief look with Peyton, "Terry, right?" The demon nodded, then Wyatt continued, "I need your help." Terry edged closer at that, making his way back to the counter, "My brother is in a huge mess involving the Source and the Seer."

"I know," Terry stated, resting his hands on the counter, "It's pretty widely known." He paused and gave a shrug before he continued, "Anything involving you Halliwell's is spread around the Underworld rather fast." He had heard about the plan shortly after Chris' first visit, actually. The Cornu were apparently trying to kidnap him for the Seer so she could get some sort of information from him for the Source. What they wanted to find out he still wasn't sure about, but apparently it was something rather massive.

Wyatt nodded and stuffed his hand in his pocket, causing Terry to tense up, afraid to see what he'd pull out. When Wyatt slammed a few vials of Gypsy blood and other assortment potion materials on the counter, he instantly felt that tension disappear. He had been so afraid it was going to be an athame. Terry's lips curled into a smile, causing a small smile to appear on Wyatt's face as well. He had picked the right demon apparently, and Peyton had been right about aiming for lower-level demons: they are more easily bribed.

"Tell me everything you know," Wyatt told the demon, brown eyes meeting his dark jet black ones.

"Well," Terry started, leaning in towards the two cousins, hushing his voice in case someone walked in, "I heard it all started with something the Seer saw having to do with your brother." A pause, "It apparently is something really good for us, which probably means it's not going to be so good for you."

"Do you know what they want with him?" Wyatt asked, possible ideas floating through his head but nothing that seemed to be realistic or plausible. The possible idea that they wanted him dead had been Wyatt's original idea, but they've had many chances to kill Chris but haven't succeeded. If they really wanted to get it done, the Source would have come right to him and killed him in a second.

"No," Terry shook his head, "that part of the plan isn't really known to most of the Underworld. I know that they were trying to kidnap him, but that plan didn't really work out so well." Terry let out a laugh at that, "Your brother took down every member of the clan that was trying to do that. I got to tell you, the whole Underworld really underestimated him. Who would have thought he was capable of that?"

"Seems we all underestimated him," Peyton cut in, eyes flashing from Terry to Wyatt. The whole family was still flabbergasted by what Chris had done. Of course they believed Chris was powerful, but taking out a whole demon clan by himself? That was a feat that most witches could never live to tell. When Chris woke up he would definitely have bragging rights.

"He ended up in a coma, Peyton," Wyatt retorted, "I don't think we underestimated him _that_ much." His idiot brother got himself in way over his head this time, and yes, though he was shocked that Chris had managed to take out that clan, his brother was now comatose because of it.

"He's in a coma?" Terry asked with interest. That news had yet to spread across the Underworld. Ever since Chris' vanquishing spree and apparent run in with the Seer all plans to kidnap him had been put to a halt. She had attempted to take him but apparently he was much stronger than she had expected and had a new power that she wasn't aware of. From what he heard, the Halliwell boy had telekinetically thrown her across the room while sparks shot out of his body, knocking her unconscious.

"Yeah," Peyton nodded as she spoke up, "and we're looking for information that could maybe help us wake him up." She looked at the demon curiously, watching as his features creased as he got lost in thought. A sudden spark of hope flashed inside her. He looked like he knew something that could help. Maybe he had the answer to waking Chris up.

"Your brother's a precog, right?" Terry asked, eyes shifting from the girl to the Twice-Blessed. After Wyatt gave a nod, Terry's features shined assurance and knowledge, "The Seer can force anyone with the power of premonitions into one at any given time." He paused as Wyatt and Peyton stared at him with a new hope and curiosity, "Maybe she was the one who put him in that coma. She is extremely powerful and I wouldn't be surprised if she was the one behind this."

"That makes sense," Wyatt spoke his thoughts aloud, eyes traveling over to his younger cousin to see if she agreed with him. A strong feeling of hope was filling Wyatt at the thought of knowing what had caused his brother to fall into that coma. If he knew what caused it, that meant he would finally be able to figure out how to snap him out of it. He felt like he was so close to finally getting his brother to wake up. After five days of endless searching he finally felt like he could fix this.

"How could we bring him out of it?" Peyton asked, sending the question to Terry, her head turning from Wyatt to the fanged demon. Her eyes fell onto the potion ingredients that were scattered on the counter in front of them, "Is there some sort of potion that could wake him up?" She questioned, eyes landing back on Terry.

The demon shook his head, causing a small sting of disappointment to pinch at the two cousins, "No." The demon replied, grabbing up the ingredients from the table and making his way over to another counter where a cauldron sat, "If the Seer did this to your brother then her hold would be much too powerful for any potion or spell to break." His jet black eyes turned back to look towards the two Halliwells, hands sorting through his new ingredients, "What you would need is something much more powerful." He paused, taking a moment to think as he pulled a bunch of Mandrake Root out from the pile and placed it off to the side, "Something similar to the Power of Three, but much, _much_ stronger."

Wyatt instantly felt his hope disappear and his heart sink. Something much more powerful than the Power of Three? What could possibly be stronger than that? Dammit, he had gotten so close. He had figured out what had probably caused it, he had been so _close_ to finding a solution. But right when he had felt the most hope, right when he had believed he was about to save his brother, everything just fell to pieces. He felt so useless now. There was nothing he could think to do other than kill the Seer himself but he knew he'd probably end up being the one who was killed. Even if he was the Twice-Blessed, taking on the Seer alone would prove to be too much for him. His parents would never allow it either. It was far too dangerous to go after someone like the Seer.

"Wyatt, orb us to the hospital!" Peyton declared, eyes wide and knowing. Wyatt looked her way with a bemused expression, waiting for her to inform him of what she had figured out, but she didn't speak a word about her epiphany, "Wyatt!" she called again, grabbing his hand tight and looking up at him, "Come on!"

Wyatt finally obeyed and the two disappeared in a swirl of blue and white orbs, reappearing within moments in Chris' hospital room. Leo's gaze had shifted from Chris to the two young Halliwell's. He had been expecting Paige and Piper.

Before either Leo and Wyatt could get a question out, Peyton declared, "Your Bond with Chris! It's much more powerful than the Power of Three, right? It could work!" She couldn't believe no on else had thought of that. Wyatt and Chris' Bond was supposedly one of the strongest magical connections ever to exist. Wyatt's status as the Twice-Blessed and Chris' half-Elder genes were the cause of that.

Leo's eyes instantly widened and hope filled his chest, "That could work," he stated, eyes falling down to his comatose son, "I can't believe I didn't think of that. I _know _how strong your Bond is, we all do."

"What should I do?" Wyatt asked, directing his question to any one in room. He didn't know how this would work. He always just pictured his Bond with his brother to be simply what it was. He never imagined he could use it this way, he never imagined it was capable of helping his brother like this.

"He needs someone to pull him out of it," Leo started from his seat next to his youngest, "a connection to the conscious world--your voice--could bring him back." If what Leo knew of their Bond was true, then Wyatt could go inside Chris' head and talk with him on a subconscious level. He believed then Chris would catch onto this voice and Wyatt could sort of use it to pull him out of his coma. He couldn't believe he had not thought of this sooner! While he had been busy thinking that they were never going to get Chris to wake up the solution had been right in front of them the whole time!

"Here," Peyton spoke up as she grabbed his arm and placed his hand on Chris' wrist, allowing him to curl up his fingers around it, "It sometimes helps to be touching the person. It can make your connection stronger." She gave Wyatt a small smile and removed her hand from his arm.

Wyatt turned his gaze to his younger brother, eyes falling down to where his hand was, the warmth radiating off of his brother skin warming his hand instantly. His brother's whole body was unusually hot, that was the fever's fault. He let his gaze wander back up to his brother's pale face before he started with attempt number one.

"_Chris," _He started, speaking without moving his lips, _"Can you hear me, Chris?"_ Wyatt didn't really know what to say or what was going to happen. He hoped that somehow this worked and Chris woke up, but most of the things the family had tried on Chris hadn't worked, so why should this be any different? Yes, their Bond was vert powerful, but how could his voice really pull his brother out of a coma? He would try his hardest though because that small feeling of hope had fallen over all three of the room occupants and he more than anyone really wanted this to work.

"_Chris, you need to wake up now," _Wyatt started up again, staring at his brother, waiting for some sort of response. He wanted to hear Chris speak back, he wanted to see his brother start to stir, move a finger, open his eyes. He wanted this to work, he really wanted this work--no, it _had _to work. What else would they do if this didn't work? They had tried practically everything, had searched through the Book and almost the whole Magic School library for spells and potions. If this didn't work there really wouldn't be anything else. He had to save Chris, he was the only one who could. He couldn't fail, there was nothing else.

Leo and Peyton watched as minutes passed, Wyatt still trying with determination. As each minute passed, the hope that had briefly filled them was diminishing, just like it had with the last attempt to wake Chris up. For Wyatt, as that hope diminished, his frustration grew. Why wasn't it working? It had to work, it had to!

"Dammit!" Wyatt cursed and released his brother's wrist as he turned and took a few steps away, frustration and rage boiling within him. It was his job to fix this, he had never let down Chris before, and he definitely could not let him down now. This was different than some kid pushing him on the playground or his brother being picked on. This was the one time in Chris' life when his brother needed him more than ever, how could he let himself fail him now?

"It's alright Wyatt," Leo told his son, catching onto his frustration and disappointment, "We'll find another way."

Wyatt swiftly turned on his heels and charged back towards his brother, determined and angered. He grabbed his brother's upper arms and stared at his unconscious form with narrowed eyes. He wasn't going to give up, he was going to wake his brother up, he wouldn't stop until Chris woke up.

"_Dammit, Chris, wake up!" _Wyatt sent the message filled with rage and frustration. The anger was not directed towards his brother, but instead towards himself. Why couldn't he do this? Why couldn't he save Chris? "_Wake--"_

_Lord Wyatt slammed his brother into the wall of the cavern, staring him down with nothing but anger in his eyes, "You're not allowed to leave me, Christopher!" he bellowed to his brother._

"_What you've done is_ wrong_, Wyatt," Chris shot back, matching his brother's angry look with one of determination, hiding his fear. Chris honestly didn't know what his brother would do to him. He had found out about what Wyatt had been doing. Killing innocents, working with demons--his brother was now the Source of All Evil! How could he act like what Wyatt was doing wasn't wrong? How could he be around his brother when he knew all of what he had done? _

"_I'm not going to be a part of this," Chris told his brother, voice cold and stern._

_Wyatt's hand instantly shot to Chris' neck, long fingers wrapping around it tightly, "No!" He yelled, voice echoing through the cavern, "You are not allowed to leave me! Not after all that I've done for you." He tightened his grip, eyes narrow, as he watched his brother's hands shoot up to his neck, trying to pry his strong grip away from his neck, "I did this all for _us, _Chris! I did this to make things better!" Wyatt slammed his brother into the cavern wall hard, never letting go of his throat, "I'm the most powerful being ever to exist, no one can ever hurt you again!"_

_Chris grabbed onto his brother's hand tightly, fingernails practically digging into the skin as he tried to pull it off his neck, "Wy ..." he gasped out as he tried to suck in air, "Please ... let go ..." Chris sucked in deep, making an almost horrific noise as he desperately tried to breathe, "You're going ... to ... _kill_ me."_

_Wyatt's eyes went wide and he suddenly became more aware of what he was doing. He quickly released his grip and watched as his brother fell to the ground, letting out horrific gasps as he tried to inhale the oxygen his body was dying for. Wyatt backed up, eyes never leaving his brother, and watched with a blank expression as his brother coughed and gasped. Wyatt didn't know what had come over him. The thought of Chris disowning him like that had just enraged him more than ever. The fact that he had gotten so mad frightened him, but he could not show his brother that. He had to always look tough and unforgiving--he was the Source for crying out loud! He couldn't show any emotions like that._

_Chris' jade eyes travelled up to his brother, still coughing and gasping, but much less than before. Wyatt could see the hidden fear behind Chris' eyes and he instantly felt worse about what he had done. He needed to keep more control over his emotions. He couldn't have things like this happen often. He let his gaze travel away from his brother as he crossed his arms and turned his back to the younger Halliwell, listening to shuffling of his brother's feet as he stumbled up, coughing._

"_I suggest you leave, Christopher," Wyatt told the boy, though it was more of an order than a suggestion. He needed some alone time, he needed cool off and get control over his emotions. There was no way he would allow Chris to leave him though. They were brothers, they shared a magical bond as well as a blood bond, and they were stuck together no matter what. They had been through far too much to break ties with each other, and they both knew it._

"_I can't be a part of this, Wyatt--"_

"Leave!_" Wyatt ordered with a stern and anger voice, cutting off his brother before the boy could even start up his argument again._

_Chris silently obeyed and disappeared in a swirl of blue and white jingling orbs, leaving his brother to his own emotions and thoughts._

Wyatt felt himself thrown out of Chris' mind and quickly released his grip, eyes wide as he stumbled back away from his brother, what he had just seen still playing in his head. Simultaneously there was a rough, harsh gasp and the beeping that had been calm in the background suddenly sped up.

"Oh my god," Peyton exclaimed, eyes wide and expression showing complete shock as she stared at her cousin, "it worked."

Wyatt's eyes landed back on his brother and he watched as the younger boy let out a few coughs. He was sitting up straight in his bed, jade eyes open, arms supporting him as he pushed down against the mattress. Through the confusion and shock he felt towards what he had just seen, he felt a small sense of relief fall into the mix of his emotions. Chris was awake, his eyes were open and his body was moving. He could finally talk with them now, be his sarcastic, cocky self once again.

"Chris," his father said, a smile forming on his lips. His youngest son turned his attention briefly to his father, still coughing as he tried to catch his breath. Leo instantly wrapped his arms around his son, relief and happiness falling over him, "It's okay," he told the boy, "just take deep breaths." Chris obeyed his father and began inhaling and exhaling slowly. His eyes were staring straight at Wyatt as he did this, never daring to leave him as he felt his breathing return to normal and he let his head rest against his fathers shoulder. God, had he really needed a hug--of course, he'd never admit it aloud though. After suffering through that hell without much break he had been in the need of some sort of comforting. It wasn't as nice as he wished it could be though, because his mind was somewhere else and his gaze would not leave his brother. The look that Wyatt was sending him only assured him of what he had hoped was not true. Wyatt had seen it too. Chris had felt his presence in his mind during the vision, he had a feeling Wyatt was watching too. Damn that stupid Bond of theirs, it never really did him any good.

Leo gave his son one last squeeze before he released him and stood up from his seat, "I'm going to go get the doctor, alright?" he told Chris, watching as the boy let his gaze wander over the room, taking in his surroundings. He hadn't really realized he was in a hospital, but it made sense. He had always heard the beeping of a heart monitor whenever he escaped a vision. He didn't actually know what had really happened to him or how long he had been stuck in there, and he was kind of hoping that soon someone would explain to him those details. All he knew was his skin was covered in sweat and there were tubes and wires everywhere.

"Yeah," Chris gave a nod, eyes scanning his surroundings one more time before they briefly landed on his dad and he gave the answer.

Leo made his way to the door as Peyton spoke up, "I'll call them." She told her uncle, everyone in the room knowing exactly who _"them" _was. She knew that her Aunt Piper would finally be able to relax a bit knowing that Chris was finally awake and they all could stop looking for potions and spells.

Leo gave a nod and the two exited the room, leaving the brothers to themselves. Wyatt and Chris both stared at each other, jade and brown eyes locked, both trying to figure out what to say and who would start. Chris didn't want to say anything incase he was wrong and Wyatt had actually seen nothing--actually, either way it went he didn't really want to talk about it. It wasn't really a subject he enjoyed thinking about.

The silence was finally broken by no other than the eldest Halliwell, his curiosity getting the best of him, "Chris," he started, mind still replaying what he saw, "what was I doing to you? What was--"

"It wasn't you," Chris replied, correcting his brother as his eyes travelled down towards the bed. For some reason he just couldn't keep up eye contact with him as he talked about the other him. This wasn't even supposed to happen. No one was supposed to know, and now, one of the people he really didn't want to find out about it had. He hadn't prepared a way to explain it--hell, he didn't even fully understand it himself.

"Chris--"

"I promise I will explain everything," Chris told him, cutting him off before he could get out anymore questions, "just not right now." His eyes suddenly shifted right back to Wyatt's, jade eyes locking onto his brown ones, "You have to swear to me you won't tell anyone though."

"I wouldn't even know where to begin," Wyatt stated, still completely baffled by what he had seen. His brother wasn't really up for talking and though that irked him a bit, he'd wait to find out. The kid _had_ just woken up from a coma, and if he was seeing things like that the whole time then he supposed Chris really needed a break from it.

"Promise me," Chris ordered him, voice somewhat stern.

"I promise I won't tell anyone," Wyatt told his brother, somewhat easing his worries. As long as it was kept a secret from the rest of the family, Chris believed he could survive. He didn't want to have to explain it to his parents and aunts--and besides, he was angry with them anyway. They had known all about the other him but had chosen not to tell him about it. That was one secret they had no right to keep. If he had known then he wouldn't have felt like he was going crazy the last nine months.

Chris had a faint idea what was going through Wyatt's head as he studied his expression, knowing what they had saw was confusing his older brother more than it confused him now. He picked up on the sound of three sets of footsteps making their way to the room. Wyatt had picked up on it too, eyes quickly shifting from him to the door.

"Wyatt," Chris started, catching his brother's attention, "that isn't you." A pause, "You're not _him_."

His older brother gave a nod at that as the doctor and a nurse made their way in. The doctor spoke a few words to Chris before looking towards his brother, telling him that they'd be done in a few minutes, then he and his family could come back in. The nurse ushered Wyatt out the door, the two brothers sharing one more look--locking eyes--before she shut the door.

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Thank you all for reading and reviewing (if you do)!

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I will get to work on the next one starting tomorrow (I hope). In the meantime, please review! They all make my day and encourage me to write these chapters faster.

Thank you all again for reading!

:)


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas!**

Thank you all so much for the reviews for last chapter, I'm so happy to hear you all liked it!

I'm _so_ sorry this took so long to get up, I had to finish an Advanced Composition piece and I've been so busy. Hopefully the length will make up for it. :)

Enjoy!

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Chris completely detested hospitals. He wasn't quite sure when this hate had begun, maybe during his many visits during his younger years to the emergency room. He'd have to wait for hours, cradling an arm that pulsated with pain or holding and ice back up to his forehead where a deep gash swelled. He remembered sitting with his father on many occasions, staring at the other injured patients around him. Some had worse injuries than him and that always tended to gross him out. Seeing people who had chopped off a finger, hand wrapped in a bloody towel ... hospitals didn't hold great memories for him. He used to beg his father to let Aunt Paige heal him--to spare him another long trip to the emergency room, but his parents wouldn't allow it. They only allowed him to be healed from magical wounds, other--_normal_--wounds had to be treated at the hospital like any other_ normal_ kid would._ But mom,_ he'd always protest, _I'm not a _normal _kid._ Oh, how he_ really_ wished he was now. He wished he could warn his younger self to want to be normal, that all magic would ever do for him was screw him over and make his life a miserable_, _living _hell._ His younger self should have been a little more thankful for the much more normal life he had been allowed to lead. It was a gift--even if he had to suffer through a hated trip to the hospital on the rare occasion.

Now, Chris had another reason to detest hospitals with a burning passion: the food. He was sitting in his bed, pushing around disgusting peas with a plastic fork. Chris had always hated peas, but these peas just brought that hate to a new level. Actually, every piece of food on his plate--the chicken, the carrots, _everything_--looked completely unappetizing and caused him to glare evilly down at it with an intense hate in the pit of his stomach. He could not wait to leave this place and get himself a cheeseburger.

"Chris," His mother's voice came from beside him, causing Chris to avert his gaze from the food and set his jade eyes onto his mother, "you've been playing with your food for ten minutes now. You really need to eat." His mom had been on his case about everything since he had woken up--_you have to get some sleep Chris_, _you have to eat Chris,_ _you have to stay in bed Chris_. She repeated those statements multiple times a day, practically driving him crazy. No, he wasn't going to sleep--he had been in a coma for five days, that was more than enough rest--he would not be eating unless she snuck him in some real (not disgusting) food, and he had been stuck in a bed for so long his legs were aching to get up and move around. He didn't know how much more of his mother's nagging he could take.

"Relax, mom," he told her, dropping his fork onto the tray, "I've still got that feeding tube. It'll keep my pumped full of the nutrients I need until I'm released and can get some real food." He paused for a moment, an idea suddenly striking him, "Or," he started, looking towards his mother with a small smirk, "you could just sneak me in a burger or something." His eyes fell back down to the food on his plate--the sickening processed crap they had been trying to feed him, "I'd eat then."

"Chris--"

"Nevermind," He cut her off before she could start the lecture he knew was coming. Whenever she said his name with that tone of voice it always led into some lecture where she'd rant about how she couldn't do that or go on about something the doctor had said and he just didn't want to hear it. "I'm not really hungry." He pushed aside his food and tried to get comfortable, but his legs were just itching to move. He needed to get out of that hospital bed, he needed to go home and get these tubes out of his body.

Piper instantly caught onto his discomfort, noticing the irked look that had stretched across his features as he adjusted himself in bed, trying to get comfortable while trying to be careful enough not to rip out any of his tubes. His frustration was growing and after a few more adjustments, he finally gave up, sitting up in his bed and letting out a huff. His gaze shot back to her and he let his hands fall down onto his lap before speaking up.

"Why am I still here?" He asked her, though he had asked the question numerous times before. He didn't know what he was expecting to hear. The last five times he asked he had gotten the same answer, and apparently it didn't want to change.

"Because," she started up again for what felt like the twentieth time that day, "the doctors wanted to do a few more tests on you." Chris rolled his eyes at this, rather irked by the answer. She simply ignored it and continued, "Now," she pushed his tray of food back towards him and pointed a stiff finger down at it, "start eating, mister."

"What's the point of letting them do more tests if we know what caused it?" He asked, ignoring her order and pushing the food away yet again, "There's no test that's going to show them that I was magically induced into a coma."

"Yes, but we can't just up and leave right when you wake up, can we?" She retorted, crossing her arms.

"No, actually," a brief pause, "we can." It was Piper's turn to roll her eyes. She didn't give her son the gift of a response, knowing that if she did this argument wouldn't end for quite some time. She just simply pushed his tray towards him again, motioning down towards the assortment of processed foods, telling him to start eating.

"Actually," Chris started up, having a thought, "maybe I do want to stay here, because you know what I remembered?" He paused for emphasis, not expecting his mother to give an answer, before continuing, "You _grounded _me after I woke up from a coma, the nice mother you are."

Piper was getting rather sick of Chris' attitude at the moment, and Chris could instantly tell she was beginning to get a little peeved.

"Keep that up and the grounding will last even longer, mister." She told him sternly.

"You really want me to hate you, don't you?" Chris asked, crossing his arms. The look that suddenly flashed on his mother's face made him instantly regret saying that. In that quick second, she had looked so hurt and he suddenly felt terribly bad for saying that. Yes, he was finding his parents quite annoying lately; yes, he was mad at them for lying to him, but he didn't _hate_ them. Even if sometimes the feelings of the other Chris got in the way when it came to his father, _he _still did not hate him. The look had vanished from his mother's features, but in her eyes Chris could still see it lingering.

Chris let silence fill the room for a short while as guilt started to consume him. He let his gaze soften and arms fall to his lap. He shifted his eyes away from his mother for a brief moment, letting them land on the tray of food that had been pushed to the side, before starting up, "Sorry." He apologized weakly, letting his eyes travel back towards his mother. Her eyes widened a bit, a bit shocked by his abrupt apology, "I didn't mean that." Another quick pause before he added, "I don't hate you."

Chris didn't know it, but hearing him say that had filled Piper with a sense of relief and joy. All of these months wondering if she was losing him, if he was starting to resent her as well as his father, had really worn her down. She had tried so hard to be a good mother (and Leo had worked on becoming the father both of his children deserved) and seeing her son drift from her, give her looks that showed his distaste for her and the family's ways had hurt her. Those four words had eased her, comforted her, assured her that she had not failed and maybe she wasn't losing her son.

"I'm just--" he started up, pausing and looking up to the left, trying to find the right way to explain it without giving away too much information. His eyes travelled back over to his mother as he continued, "I'm going through a rough patch ... or something." His gaze fell to his lap, eyes landing on the tube that had been stuck in his arm for quite some time. He had ripped it out once, but the plump nurse had given him a nice little scolding for it while she stuck it in again without warning, causing him to scrunch up his features and let out a quick yelp. Another reason why he hated hospitals: He didn't get along with plump nurses and straight-laced doctors that tried to tell him what to do.

"I've noticed," Piper replied, giving her son a small smile as she watched his gaze wander back to her, jade eyes partially hidden by the strands of his hair. It was getting long, but Chris honesty hadn't really been thinking about his appearance as of late--there were more pressing matters than whether his bangs were close to blinding him or not.

Piper's features suddenly changed, that smile dying down before she started up again, this time with a question Chris wouldn't want to hear, "Chris, do you know why the Seer did this to you?"

His gaze instantly shifted towards the window, keeping it as far away from his mother's brown, soft eyes as possible. He didn't want to talk about this, he didn't want to think about what had just happened to him, how the Seer had put him in a coma for days. Oh, she would not get away with this without some punishment. He was going to kill that demon _bitch _for putting him through that hell for five days nonstop.

"No," he lied to his mother, shrugging his shoulders. He turned his head and settled his eyes back on his mother--if he wanted her to believe him, he knew he'd have to make eyes contact at some point, "but I am a Halliwell, so maybe she was doing this to get to Wyatt or you and Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige." He was trying to give them something to look for that wouldn't really involve him. He believed if he gave them false leads then it would take them even longer to find out the truth. Eventually, they would, that fact was now inevitable for Chris. He didn't want to have to face the situation, so he would lead them on a path of false leads and lies as long as possible. When the time did come though, he would get a bit of pleasure yelling at them for not telling him about the other him. Hiding it had been wrong and he hoped they felt guilty--really guilty--when they found out. He had a right to know, and they had no right to keep it from him.

"... Maybe," Piper said after a moment of thought, "We'll work on figuring it out, but--"

"I'm going to rest my eyes," Chris suddenly stated, interrupting her, a hint of irritation in his voice. He didn't want to talk about the Seer or any of that magical crap anymore. Right then his hate for all things magic had grown immensely and he was honestly exhausted. He was going on little sleep, too afraid to let himself sleep long enough to fall into another vision. What if he feel back into a coma? What if the Seer could force him back in there? He needed to keep his guard up, he needed to sort out his thoughts, but he was just so _goddamn_ tired. He'd give himself the satisfaction of resting his eyes, but no sleep.

"Don't let me fall asleep," he told his mother as he adjusted himself on the bed finding the least uncomfortable spot he could settle into. His mother gave him a smile and he shut his eyes, ears still catching onto the sounds that surrounded him--the beeping, the shuffling of feet outside of his room, his mother's soft breathing. Within minutes though, the sounds began to blend together, turning into a jumbled mix like the sound he heard while tuning a radio. Sounds combing together, getting lost in one another, each fading in and out until they were finally gone, and then there was silence.

_The rain was falling down hard, drenching his clothes and hair, leaving him practically shivering. It fit the mood--rain was always thought of as a sign of grief and depression. Standing on the moist ground, staring at a row of graves--each stone collecting water droplets, those droplets slowly making their way down the smooth granite like a tear would fall steadily down a cheek._

_The graves went in this order:_

_First, the infamous Penelope Elizabeth Halliwell--or better known as Grams to him and his family. He had never really met the woman--spare the few times she had been summoned by his mother and aunts--but she had apparently been a rather nice (but stern) woman. She wasn't a big fan of men, and whenever she was summoned she didn't really seem to care for him or his brother and male cousin. She had died of a heart attack years before he was born._

_Following that would be his grandmother, Patricia Anne Halliwell. Another member of the family he hadn't really known, but his mother and aunts spoke fondly of her. She had been a strong woman, very independent--like most Halliwell's--and was an excellent mother. She had died young--at 27 years old--due to a demon attack by a Water demon._

_Next was his mother's grave--much more new, the stone much more shiny then the other two. He couldn't even read the epitaph without tearing up. He didn't like to even look at the grave. He didn't like to believe she was gone, but she was. Two years had passed since her death, the world had gone to hell, his family was being wiped out in increasing numbers, and he forced himself to accept their deaths, but he still could not accept hers. He didn't want to believe it. The event of her death was still perfectly clear in his mind, he had seen it happen, and he knew she was gone, but a part of him would not let him believe it. He needed his mother, he really needed his mother, so how could she be dead when he needed her so much? Everything was turning to shit, _everything_, and how was he supposed to cope without her?_

_The jingle of orbs quickly caught Chris' attention and the hand that fell onto his shoulder and gripped it tight belonged to the young man responsible for what had happened to his world. His older brother, the one person he looked up to the most, had turned around and done this to him. The graves that were lined next to his mother--their Aunt Phoebe, Aunt Paige, Uncle Coop, Uncle Henry--had all ended up there because of the older boy._

_Wyatt stared out at the line of graves, no emotions relevant on his face. He felt nothing for what he had done, felt no remorse. Those emotions had vanished the day he had fully taken over as the Source. There was no room for such petty things like that anymore--they would only get in the way. Those emotions were only reserved for his younger brother--the boy that this had all been for, the reason that he had gone out and taken over the city. No more suffering would befall his brother. But the boy had betrayed him. Chris had run off, called what he was doing sick and demented, and ever since had been hiding from him, helping out innocents whenever he got the chance. They were on two very different sides now, but that didn't matter. On this day, the running and hiding stopped for his younger brother, and he did not chase him. For one day only, the two brothers met up, no fighting, no yelling, no hate-filled glances or rage-filled glares. They agreed to be civil to each other on this day, they agreed to be the brothers they used to be. It's what their mother would have wanted. _

"_Happy sixteenth birthday, Christopher," He told his brother, eyes falling onto the brown haired boy's profile. His eyes didn't move from the grave, hands stuffed in his pockets, water droplets sliding down his skin. Staring at his face, Wyatt couldn't tell if the sliding droplets were rain, or tears._

Chris' eyes fluttered open and sounds rushed back into his ears. The beeping was back, the faint footsteps could be heard in the hallway, but his mother's breathing was absent. His eyes flew up to the spot where his mother had been sitting, finding the chair empty. He sat up in bed--heartbeat quickening--a panic falling over him. His eyes fell onto the folded paper that sat on the table next to his bed--right next to a pitcher of water. He snatched up the white sheet and unfolded it, relief falling over him as he read the short letter:

_Chris,_

_I've gone home to help your aunts. I'll be back later with your father. By the time you get this, I'm hopping you've had yourself a long rest--we both know you needed it. Stay in your bed, don't fight with the nurses, and _please, _eat._

_Love, Mom._

For a moment--for one quick, passing second--he had thought he was the other Chris. He had thought that his mother was dead. That scared him--both the thought that she had been dead as well as the fact that he had gotten so confused. He rubbed at his eyes and felt water brush against his palms. It must have been on account of the vision--he woke up feeling like he had been right in that rain storm. He hadn't realized he was really _crying_ though. His thoughts suddenly fell back onto the way his mother had looked that day for the other Chris--the day that she had died. Her glazed over eyes, the blood, the ghostly color to her skin...

Chris quickly pulled off his sheets and swung his feet over the side of the bed. He needed a smoke, he really needed a goddamn smoke. Landon had thankfully visited him earlier that day, bearing the great gift of a full pack of cigarettes and a cheap lighter. Zooey had been there as well and she had rolled her eyes once she saw him pull out the wonderful present. Landon had hid it somewhere for him, but he really couldn't remember. He would find it though, tear apart the whole room if he had to. He stood up and glared down at the one inconvenience that would slow him down: the IV. He grabbed onto the pole that held the bag up and wheeled it along with him quickly. He swiftly started digging through drawers, pushing miscellaneous items aside as he tried to spot the one thing that his body had been deprived of and desperately needed.

"Chris!"

The voice caused Chris to freeze in his tracks and turn his head from the drawer. He met the gaze of the one woman who had been driving him crazy ever since he woke up: the plump nurse, other wise known as Lisa. He turned his body and pushed the drawer shut as she spoke:

"What are you doing?" she asked, making her way into the room, IV bag in her hand, "Apparently you don't understand what the word 'resting' means."

"Well," Chris started, crossing his arms as she made her way towards him, "my legs were just _itching_ to move and I thought, 'Why not take a little stroll over to this corner of the room, just to piss Lisa off?'" He wore a smug smirk and she ushered him back over to his bed, scolding him the whole way.

"Oh, sweetie, I can _not _wait for you to leave." She told him as he brought his legs up onto the bed and sat crisscross on the sheets, still smirking.

"Me either, Lisa. Though I do _love_ your company and all ..." He told her as he watched her hang up a full IV bag to replace the near empty one.

Her eyes fell onto the smirking boy before quickly turning her gaze towards the barely touched meal on the tray near his bed, "I see you're still not eating." She made her way over to the other side of the bed, picking up the patient's tray, "You want that tube to stay in forever?"

"Bring me some good food, then we'll talk." He replied quickly and smugly.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed up the tray, "Your brother's here to visit you," she told the young patient as she made her way over to the door with the tray. She turned her head once more to add, "I'll be back later with more food, though I'm guessing it'll be a waste."

"Good guess." Chris called from the bed with a smirk as he watched Lisa roll her eyes before making a quick exit. Within seconds, Wyatt was at the doorway and the room was filled again with the presence of the Twice-Blessed. He made his way over to the bed, staring at his brother--who looked much more lively than the days prior. It was a relief to see the teenager with color in his face, eyes moving and body sitting upright. The day prior had left Wyatt confused and full of questions, but he was thankful that at least his brother's problem had been somewhat solved.

Before Wyatt could even open his mouth to say hello, Chris cut in, "Do me a favor," he started, "go over to the drawer over there and throw me over the two things that are in it." He pointed over to the drawer, causing Wyatt's gaze to follow his finger.

Wyatt rolled his eyes as he made his way across the room, "Well, 'hi' to you too, Chris." He spoke with sarcasm. He opened the drawer and stared down at the two objects, instantly shaking his head as he grabbed up a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"Are you serious?" Wyatt asked as he made his way back over to his brother, tossing over the pack and the lighter before he settled down in the chair beside the bed. He knew only one person was responsible for that pack of cigarettes being there, and it added another reason to Wyatt's list on why he should hate Landon Carraway.

Chris pulled out a stick and ignored his brother, a small smile forming on his lips as he placed it between his lips and ran his thumb along the thumbwheel, producing a quick and small flame. He inhaled and exhaled, releasing a cloud of smoke from his lungs, feeling himself relax. Oh God, it was good to smoke again. He had really missed his bad habit, especially right after he woke up. He was in desperate need of a cigarette then but sadly had no way of getting it. He thanked the Lord that he was friends with Landon Carraway--that kid was a lifesaver.

"Chris," Wyatt started, catching his younger brother's attention and gaze, "I've been replaying that thing I saw over and over all night in my mind. I can't make any sense out of it." He paused, waiting for Chris to show some sort of response, but the boy didn't, so he quickly continued, "You told me you'd explain it to me."

Chris didn't want to deal with this, he really didn't. He had been dreading this moment, hoping that somehow Wyatt would suddenly find himself with short term memory loss and never remember what he saw again, but apparently that hadn't happened. He was hoping he could find a way out of this ...

"Why don't we pretend you didn't see what you saw?" he suggested to his older brother between drags, "Then you wouldn't be confused at all and you could just move on with your normal life." He gave his brother a small, hopeful smile.

"I can't pretend I didn't see ... whatever it was!" Wyatt exclaimed, much to Chris' disappointment. He wasn't going to just move on with his life after seeing such a horrific thing. "I was strangling _you_, Chris. I was hurting _you_. I--"

"Didn't we already go through this?" Chris cut his brother off with an irritated look and tone. Talking about this stuff for the first time with a family member was proving to be rather annoying and irritating--which he had somewhat expected. "You are not him, he is not you. I was not the Chris the other you was strangling."

Wyatt looked at him, features creased in confusion, causing Chris to let out a frustrated sigh, "Wow," he started, placing his head in his hands and rubbing at his eyes with his palms, "this is really annoying." He sat like that for a few moments, thinking of possible ways to explain it as Wyatt sat next to him, confusion and questions growing with every minute that passed.

"Alright," Chris spoke up after a minute, letting his hands drop to his lap. He took one last drag of his cigarette before starting up with his lengthy conclusion of an explanation, "You've heard of the theories about alternate timelines, right?" Wyatt gave a nod at this (still looking bemused) and Chris went on, "Well, what you saw--what I've been seeing--is the memories of another me, a completely different version of me. That whole event never happened, and never will in this reality because the timeline has been changed. You didn't turn into that version of yourself because someone altered the timeline at some point in time, causing whatever made you turn into that version of yourself to never happen." He decided to leave out that it had actually been he who had altered the timeline. It was better to keep that to himself, and besides, he honestly knew very little about that anyway. He was thankful he had read some books on time travel and alternate realties a few years ago or he would have had no way to explain the little that he could to Wyatt.

"To make it simple: We are not those people, this world is not that one, and what you saw was just what I'm assuming to be an extension to my premonition power." Chris placed his cigarette between his lips and inhaled. He let out the smoke with a laugh, "Isn't magic a _bitch_?"

Wyatt's lips curled up into a smile as he let out a short laugh, agreeing. "I think I understand." He told his brother. It just all seemed so complicated and he knew he didn't really understand most of it, but he had grasped the concept. All he had to remember was that what he saw wasn't real for them, he wasn't that Wyatt and his brother was not that Chris.

"But you're still confused," Chris stated it as a fact, not a question. That whole Bond thing could really cue him into his brother's emotions at times, but he honesty didn't even need the Bond to know that. _He _was still confused over the whole thing and he'd been dealing with it for nine months now.

Wyatt gave a nod in response as Chris took a drag. "Try living with it for nine months." He replied with a small laugh. His lips weren't curled up into that usual smirk though, and his eyes had fallen to his lap, glued to the burning cigarette in his hand, "I thought I was going crazy."

"It's been going on for _that_ long?" Wyatt asked, the news shocking him. He was confused just seeing one odd vision, who knows how many his brother had been forced to see! If they were anything like the one he saw, then he was assuming that they weren't really good. If that other reality was so screwed up because of him, then Chris' memories from it shouldn't be so fond. He felt bad for that--turning that world into what it was. How could he do that? What would make him just snap like that and forget about every moral he had ever learned and change into that _monster_? He had been strangling his brother, he had had his hands wrapped around his neck so tight, features creased with such a strong rage, that he looked like he was about to really kill him ... But that wasn't him, that Wyatt would never be him. He would never turn into such a monster and he would _never _hurt his brother.

Chris gave a silent nod followed by a simple shrug of his shoulders. The cigarette that he had been fiddling with between two fingers quickly went back into his mouth, allowing him to take another long drag.

"Chris," Wyatt started, causing his younger brother's eyes to shoot up towards him, "we've got to tell mom and dad." Wyatt felt like this whole thing was way over their heads and without help from their parents Chris would only end up getting himself hurt again. This so called 'extension' of his power had allowed the Seer to pull him into his visions and put him in a coma. It was far more powerful than an average premonition if it could force him into a coma for that long. They needed help on this one, but by the snort and roll of his brother's eyes, Wyatt knew that wasn't what Chris thought.

"What part of 'you can't tell anyone' didn't you understand, Wyatt?" He asked, crossing his arms. He had made it pretty clear to his brother that this had to be kept a secret but apparently Wyatt had decided to just forget about the promise he made and go and tell the family about his big extension to his _lovely_ power. Wyatt finding out wasn't really doing him any good, sadly. Even with a person to confide in, there was always that worry that he'd blab all to his unknowing parents and expose his secret to everyone.

"Chris, the Seer--"

"I'm going to take care of that," the younger Halliwell cut his brother off quickly, a hint of irritation in his voice, "So don't worry about it."

"_You're _going to take care of it?" Wyatt asked with a snort as he crossed his arms, avoiding the temptation to roll his eyes as well. What was his brother going to do? It was the freaking_ Seer_, not some stupid demon clan with a death-wish. He was no match for the Seer--nor the Source, who was supposedly involved as well--especially not alone. "Please," he started up with laugh, "tell me how _you _are going to take care of it. What's your brilliant plan?"

"I don't exactly _have_ a plan yet ..." Chris responded, not surprising his brother in the least. He had a feeling that Chris was just going to wing it and see what happened. He had probably just decided he was going to orb himself right to her and try to kick her ass--which was not going to work too well. His brother was just _too _reckless sometimes. This was why he needed some back up ... or a well thought out plan given to him by experienced witches, otherwise known as their aunts and mother.

Wyatt's eyes quickly brushed over the clock, noticing the time. He had promised his aunts he would help them around five and the clock was nearing 4:40. He hadn't orbed there so he had to take his car back to the house, which was about a fifteen minute ride. He stood up from his seat, Chris watching with curiosity as he took another drag.

"I've got to get going," He told his younger brother, grabbing his keys from out of his pocket, "We will think of a plan_ together_ after you're released from the hospital." He wasn't going to let his brother get himself killed this time, so he would make sure they had a real plan and he was not working alone.

"You won't tell them, right?" Chris asked, eyes a bit wide with uncertain fear.

"I won't tell them," Wyatt responded with a sigh, a bit reluctant to be actually agreeing to keep this thing a secret. He still felt they were in over their heads--especially with the Seer and Source involved--but he'd keep it a secret ... for now.

"Thanks," Chris said before taking his last drag and swinging his feet over the side of the bed, holding the small remainder of his cigarette between his lips as his brother started his way towards the door.

Wyatt let his gaze linger one last time towards his brother as he reached the door, watched his he tugged his IV along with him as he walked to the window, bare feet slapping lightly against the hard ground. The cigarette was quickly taken out of his mouth and flicked out of the window. Thankfully his brother would be (hopefully) giving his lungs another break.

He made his way out the door as his younger brother turned to start his way back.

* * *

Christopher Perry Halliwell.

When she first heard the name being spread around the Underworld along with a price for his kidnapping, it had instantly struck something in her. Of course she knew of the famous Halliwell family--who didn't?--but that name ... It was more than recognition, it was something deeper, but she just couldn't point it out. She felt like she cared for this witch and she found herself instantly wanting to blast whatever demon mentioned his name in the same sentence as something cruel or torturous. Even though she was an assassin, she had taken up the Seer's offer and had decided to take a quick try at being a bounty hunter. She knew what the other demons would do to a Halliwell and his family if they had been the ones that had gotten the contract.

So there she was, in a hospital, trying to find her bounty. She had gotten the tip from some lower-level demon that after his little showdown with the Seer and the Cornu he had ended up in the hospital. She had stolen a look over a plump nurse's shoulder as she heard her complain about a Chris as she wrote something down on what she assumed was his chart. She had been right, finding the room number quickly and instantly starting her way down the hall towards it. She kept her eyes focused on the room numbers, counting down as she neared the door. She suddenly found herself colliding straight into a passerby, causing her gaze to turn towards the blonde teenager. They both instantly started stuttering out apologies as the teenager bent down to pick up his dropped keys. The brief conversation ended with two more quick apologies and weak smiles before they started their separate ways.

She found the room a few moments later, not even stopping to think as she walked straight in. A brown haired teenager looked up her way from his place on the hospital bed, hands fiddling with a lighter. The bounty hunter was a little taken back--she had expected him to be _much _older than this. He was just a kid for Pete's sake! No older than sixteen! What would the Seer possibly want with this teenager?

He stared up at her with a raised eyebrow, finger still flicking the thumbwheel of his lighter as he studied the foreign woman. Long brown hair and brown eyes to match, a nice, slender figure ... god, she was so attractive. He _wished_ she was his nurse. He was assuming that she had the wrong room or something, waiting for her to leave, but she didn't. Things suddenly started to feel awkward and Chris decided to speak up:

"Um ... who are you?" he asked, not really sure what to say to this beautiful stranger. Sadly, there seemed to be a massive age difference between them. She had to be in her early twenties, unlike him.

The stranger took a moment to think before staring up, "I'll just cut to the chase," she said, crossing her arms, "my names Bianca, and I've been hired by the Seer the kidnap you."

Chris' eyes went a bit wide at that, finger slipping off the thumbwheel of his lighter, stunned to silence as his whole image of this woman suddenly changed. Instead of her just being some beautiful stranger who just accidently happened upon his hospital room, she was now a beautiful stranger who was hired by the Seer to kidnap him and probably end up sending him to his death ... _great_.

"Wow," Chris exclaimed, not really knowing what to say after that proclamation she had made, "That was very blunt." He paused, silently thinking about how he could never catch a break. He wakes up from a coma and the day after the Seer's already trying to kidnap him again? Dammit, could his life get _any_ worse?

"This is rather bad timing though," he continued, "I'm kind of stuck in a hospital, if you haven't noticed, and I can't just up and leave--that wouldn't look too good, would it?"

His eyes suddenly flashed onto a mark on her wrist that seemed to be shaped like a phoenix. Now, that was a little confusing. If he was correct, that mark was the mark of a clan of witches called the Phoenix, and they were assassins. Why would an assassin take on a job that a bounty hunter would do?

"Can I ask you something?" He suddenly blurted out, straying away from where he was originally going. When she gave him a yes he went on, "Why would a Phoenix be taking on a kidnapping mission?" He paused, watching as her eyes narrowed in suspicion, "You're assassins ... well, you're _greedy_ assassins, so maybe your doing this for the money?" He stopped again, a small smile curling up on his lips, "So tell me, how much am I worth?"

"First, tell me how you know I'm a Phoenix," she told him, staring him down with suspicion and narrowed eyes, arms crossed.

"Birthmark on your wrist," he explained with a shrug, watching as Bianca adjusted her arms and studied the mark on her wrist, "If you didn't know, I'm the intelligent Halliwell brother. Wyatt's the strong one."

Her eyes shot back up to the young witch. Everyone knew that the Twice-Blessed son was strong beyond imagination, but she had also heard that the younger brother was close in strength as well. His genes--mixed with Elder and witch--made him much more powerful than most witches around. He had taken out a whole demon clan with his own two hands--that showed a _lot_ of strength.

"Your turn," Chris told her with a small smile, "how much am I worth?"

She paused for a moment, not sure she wanted to reveal such information, but honesty, what harm could it do? Either way, she'd get her bounty. "I'm getting 500,000 for your kidnapping."

"Damn," Chris' smile grew a little at that. Was he really worth _that _much to the Seer? Though he shouldn't exactly be happy about that, it did help his self-esteem a little, as well as his inferiority complex with Wyatt. He was worth 500,000 to the Seer! "Explains why you decided to become a bounty hunter." He said with a laugh.

"That's not the only reason I'm doing this," she told him, kicking the door shut behind her before she started her way into the room. Chris stared at her with a curious look, waiting for her to go on, "I know this may sound odd, but when I heard your name, I recognized it--"

"Maybe because Halliwell is in it?" he cut her off, voice tinged with a bit of sarcasm. Bianca sent a hard glare his way and he instantly shut his mouth.

"It was more than recognition," she started up again, trying to figure out the right way to explain the feeling she had gotten when she first heard of the contract, "it was deeper than that. I don't know how to explain it, but for some reason I actually _care_ about what happens to you, and if anyone else had taken this contract, you or your family would end up hurt."

"And you're not going to hurt me or my family?" Chris asked, crossing his arms as he stared up at her with suspicion.

"I'm going to have to strip your active powers--the Seer's request--but that'll only be temporary." She told him. The fact that she even had to do that really upset her--for some reason she just didn't want to see this kid hurt. It was just so _weird_. She was a Phoenix, an assassin. They weren't supposed to act like this. They had no remorse for what they did, they didn't care if they hurt someone. They killed with no feelings behind it. So why did she care for this person, for this target? She wasn't even going to kill him, just kidnap him, and that was something she was hesitant to do. She wanted answers, she wanted to know what had drawn her to him.

"I'm not going to go without a fight, you know that, right?" he told her. There was no way he'd just let himself be taken back to the Seer. He didn't want to be stuck in his own head again like days prior, and he had a feeling the Seer wouldn't be rather nice to him--he _had_ thrown her into a wall the last time they met.

"Chris, think about it," she started, "if you fight me and I don't take you, the Seer herself may come for you. Do you think all she'll do is strip your powers?"

She had a point, Chris knew that. If he kept fighting off every demon that was sent to get him, eventually the Seer would just come and get him herself. She wouldn't hesitate to hurt him or his family. She would even kill, if necessary. He couldn't risk putting his family in danger. He had already put them all through so much because of his stupid visions. She was right. If he gave himself up without a fight, then things wouldn't turn into something already worse than they already were. No one would get hurt and no one else would suffer--other than him, of course. He could handle whatever she threw his way and he could fight her off. She wanted something that Chris didn't even know yet. Maybe he'd never actually find out what turned Wyatt in that other world, maybe it had just been inside of him his whole life, but the Seer wouldn't stop until she found that answer out.

"Fine," he agreed with reluctance, feeling somewhat defeated, "I'll let you take me, but you have to give me a few days." He really needed sometime to feel normal again, some time to rest and get himself ready for whatever the Seer had up her sleeve. After everything that had happened so far, he needed a break. He only wished that he could at least get one real night of peaceful sleep. If he was going to keep falling into those visions though, he'd rather just stay awake for the next few days--he was sure he'd be stuck in them almost nonstop when he was with the Seer.

"In four days," Chris started, eyes locking straight on her brown orbs, "we're having a family dinner. It's my cousin's birthday." Patricia was turning seven. In the other reality, she hadn't even lived to seven. Wyatt had--no, he wasn't going to think of that again. It was just too disturbing. He felt a little bad for ruining her birthday, but it was just the easiest way to take care of this. "Around five o'clock, come to the sun room of the manor." Chris let out a small, pained laugh, eyes shinning depression and defeat, "We'll make it a show. Break a few things, then start stripping me of my powers. When my family comes in, hold a knife to my throat, threaten to kill me, and they'll let you take me." Planning his own kidnapping made him almost feel sick to his stomach--he was pretty much planning his demise.

Bianca could see the defeat in his eyes, those bright jade orbs just looking so dull and hopeless. They both knew there was no other way to do this--if the Seer wanted him, she'd get him. She felt bad about taking him as well. She gave a nod of agreement, approving of the plan.

"I guess I'll see you in four days then," Chris said, cueing her that he wanted her to leave as he pulled out a cigarette. She could tell he just wanted to be left alone, and she understood that. Knowing that in four days you'd be turned into a prisoner of one of the strongest evil beings around could really put a damper on your mood. It made her feel so much worse, knowing that though she wasn't going to cause him much pain that someone else would be, someone else that was much more powerful and much more sadistic.

She stared at him for a moment, guilt filling her as she thought of what could happen to him during his stay with the Seer, before mumbling two simple words and shimmering out.

"I'm sorry." She said, disappearing and leaving the young teenager to himself, the defeated boy lighting the cigarette that he had placed in his mouth, sad eyes traveling over to the window as he started to picture that last moment of freedom, before he was taken away from the safety of his home and placed in captivity.

... and that was only four days away.

* * *

Thank you all so much for reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I will try to get the next one up sooner!

Thank you all again for reading and I hope to see many reviews!

:)


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, I think you all get this by now. :)**

Thank you all so so much for the reviews for last chapter! I appreciate them all so much! Hopefully you will keep it up!

Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Chris tapped a pencil repeatedly against his notebook, staring down at the words written on the page, head resting in his hand. He was sitting in his last period class, barely catching any part of the lecture his teacher was giving. His old, graying teacher was pacing back and forth in front of the class, book raised in his hand as he discussed themes in _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. _He had pretty much missed half of the book and thought it would be best to pay attention, but he had much more important matters to take care of at the moment. After he figured out a good plan to help him escape imprisonment by the Seer he'd gladly get back to his (semi) normal life and listen to his English teacher rave on about the major theme of freedom.

Instead of pay attention in class, he was trying to think of a word that rhymed with 'power.' His latest plan was to let Bianca take him and when he was in custody of the Seer, pull out a spell that would give him back his powers. The one problem with that plan was that he was terrible at writing spells. Out of all magical abilities, this was the one he just could never seem to get right. His spells were poorly written and worded so oddly that there was room for them to always go wrong. If he wasn't trying to keep this whole thing a secret, he would enlist the help of Aunt Phoebe; she was great with spell writing. Sadly, he'd have to try to work this out on his own. He now had only two days left. Two days ... and this was all he had come up with? God, he was _screwed_.

The loud ringing of the bell snapped Chris out of his thoughts and signaled him that it was time to leave. He quickly shut his notebook and gathering his things quickly, stuffing items into his backpack before zipping it up. He hoisted it on his shoulder and started his way swiftly out of the room, mind still trying to find that right word.

"Hey Chris."

The voice suddenly made him stop in his tracks and turn on his heels, practically shocked to see his brother leaning against the wall near his classroom, keys swinging on his finger. The younger brother's features instantly shined annoyance as he crossed his arms and stared at his older brother.

"Are you kidding me?" He asked as Wyatt pulled off the wall, "You're waiting for me outside of my class now?" Yesterday Wyatt had been waiting for him right at the doors out of the school, giving him no time to talk with any of his friends and pick up a joint to help ease his stress levels. He had been irked by that, but now, right outside of his class? That gave him no chance at all to get a joint or even speak to his friends. It was like he wasn't allowed any freedom anymore. Wyatt escorted him into the building, keeping him away from Landon, and escorted him out. Wyatt was like a warden and it was like he was a hardened criminal. In two days time he would be a prisoner, so he didn't really want to deal with feeling like one with his own family right then.

"Wanted to catch you before any drug deals could go down," Wyatt said with a shrug and a smirk before starting his way down the hallway, Chris following a few steps behind. Wyatt turned his head to look back towards him, "Gotta' keep my little brother away from those bad influences."

"Aren't you funny," Chris replied sarcastically, sending a glare towards his brother's back as the older boy stared ahead with a stupid smirk. He would have tried to come back with a better retort but he was honestly not in the mood. He had other things on his mind and this spell needed to be finished, though he doubted it'd work. The one good idea he had involved the one thing he incredibly sucked at.

Wyatt pushed open the door as they reached it and cursed as he spotted the dark clouds and hard rain. They both were ill-equipped, none having an umbrella to protect them from the weather. There was no way around getting completely drenched and Chris could already picture how his mother was going to react when he got to the house. She had been babying him ever since he woke up from the coma, acting like he was made of glass. He couldn't stand to be around her because of it. It had taken him forever to convince her to let him go back to school that day--thankfully his dad had taken his side after a brief argument, and even if his mother stared his father down with a death glare, he managed to stand his ground and help the younger Halliwell get to school.

Wyatt turned to look towards him as Chris pulled up his hood and grumbled, "Goddamn rain." He made his way past Wyatt and started out into the pouring rain, feeling the cold sheets instantly soak him as he rushed through it, mumbling more curses as he walked. He had really wanted to have a smoke on his way to the car but apparently the weather had to curse him like this and prevent him from that one luxury. He could hear Wyatt's quick steps shortly behind him as his eyes scanned the parking lot until they spotted the car. They both rushed towards the vehicle and quickly got inside, thankful to be out of the rain.

The car was quickly started and the heat was turned on at full force, both teenagers shivering from the wet rain. Chris pulled off his soaked hood and rain a shaking hand through his damp hair. Wearing the hood had not really helped him in any way, sadly.

"So," Wyatt started as he turned the wheel and started his way out of the parking lot, "I guess this would be a good time to discuss the whole Seer situation." The two brothers had not really discussed the topic yet due to privacy issues at home. Chris would not talk about anything when there was a chance that their parents would overhear--and Wyatt understood that, but it made no room for discussion because their whole family had been at the house looking for leads since Chris' return from the hospital. This was probably the only private time they'd have for quite some time.

Wyatt caught onto his brother's peeved expression from the corner of his eyes, watching as his shivering younger brother crossed his arms and responded reluctantly, "Whatever, sure."

Chris honestly had no desire to discuss or involve Wyatt in his plan. If Wyatt got involved, he didn't know what would happen. He still didn't trust Wyatt enough not to tell the rest of the family about his secret. Unlike Wyatt, Chris was one to try to take things on alone. Recently he had established this trait--he was thinking due to the other Chris' influence. The other Chris relied on no one, trusted no one, and was definitely not one for working in groups often. The other Chris was starting to really influence him, he couldn't deny that, but there were much more reasons than that. He believed that if he told Wyatt about the whole kidnapping scheme, he'd try to stop it right away. It had to happen, there was no way around it. Wyatt just wouldn't get that. If he didn't let Bianca take him, there was no doubt in his mind that the Seer would eventually make an appearance and hurt one of his family members as well as him in order to get compliance. His plan involved getting captured, using the spell to return his powers, and then throwing everything he had at the Seer. Honesty, that wasn't turning out too good either--spell writing was just so hard for him. If that didn't work then he'd move to Plan B: wait for his family to come and save his ass and just stick to worrying about surviving. He could handle a few days with the Seer; he was strong enough. It's not like you can premonition someone to death, so a few visions here and there and probably a few slaps wouldn't kill him.

Wyatt opened his mouth to speak up, but before he could get a word out the loud ringing of a phone interrupted him. Chris' gaze turned over to his backpack, the ringing echoing from a compartment, and he quickly pulled out the phone and checked the caller ID. It was their mother, of course, probably thinking the worst. He was thankful for the call though, if he and Wyatt didn't get to discuss any stupid plans that would be excellent. He was going to handle it on his own--he had enough brains to do it, and maybe he was just being a _'stubborn idiot'_ like his parents and the rest of the family called him many times, but he couldn't help it; it was in his genes.

Chris flipped the phone open and started the conversation, "Hi mom ... yeah, relax, traffic's just a bit bad ... we'll be there in five minutes, mom ... " His tone took on a hint of annoyance there, Wyatt instantly picked up on it, "Mom, _mom_, we're fine, just a bit wet. Relax ... Alright, bye." Chris flipped his phone closed, a peeved expression gracing his features.

"Apparently, if we're not home on time mom thinks demons have attacked us," Chris told his brother, completely irritated. He was so freaking sick of magic interfering with his life like this. Normal parents don't call their children to make sure that they haven't been attacked by mystical creatures. He just wanted at least five minutes of a somewhat normal life--lately his life had been super far from it every hour of the day. He was sick of it, really sick of it.

"Well, I wouldn't blame her for thinking that, since the Seer is after you and all ..." Wyatt replied as he turned onto their street, a little irked that they didn't really get to talk about their plan.

"There has been no attacks from her since I went into that coma, maybe she's done with me." Chris replied, wishing what he was saying was the actual truth. It would be nice to just go back to nine months ago, before everything started, and live as normally as he could again. He didn't seem to have that kind of luck though.

Wyatt let out a loud laugh at that, shaking his head as they turned into their driveway, "Yeah, right." That was an amusing thought. Their life never worked that way. The Seer would not just decide to end things because Chris beat her once (though she had gotten to Chris in the process, causing him to fall into that coma).

Wyatt shut off the engine and the two brothers quickly got out of the car and rushed their way into the house through the pouring rain. Within seconds of their arrival to the house, Piper appeared. She studied over her two children, watching as Chris pulled off his soaked hoodie and Wyatt gave her a small greeting and smile.

"I told you two to bring an umbrella this morning," she huffed, making her way over to her youngest as she spotted a small shiver shake his soaked frame. She grabbed up his soaked hoodie and studied him over, receiving an annoyed look as she tried to place her hand on his forehead. He had fought back at that, pushing her hand away as he stepped back. "I was only out there for five minutes mom, I'm not sick." He made his way past her as he grabbed up his backpack and started his way towards the stairs, "Being in a coma doesn't give you a weak immune system, jeez."

Both Wyatt and Piper watched as Chris made his way up the stairs, looking rather irritated as his shivering form disappeared from their sight, the loud bang of his door shutting coming moments after.

"He's got a point there, Piper," Phoebe's voice started up as she entered the foyer, hands holding onto two hot mugs of tea. She smiled over at her older nephew and handed him over the steaming mug, receiving a smile and 'thank you' before he left the room to go change his clothes.

"So what?" she retorted, defending her actions, "Chris always seems to get sick, so sue me for being a good mother and worrying about his health." She crossed her arms and watched as Phoebe stared at her in amusement.

"Yes, but you've been worrying a little too much as of lately, honey," she replied with a smile, even though she knew that the statement had probably ticked her sister off even more. Phoebe was speaking the truth though. Ever since he had woken up from that coma, Piper and Leo--as well as her and the rest of the family a small bit--had become a little too overprotective of the young witch. They would barely even let him out of the house to take a walk down the block without an escort. If anything happened, Chris could defend himself, they all knew that, but after all that had happened to him these past few weeks they couldn't help but be protective. She understood completely why Piper was acting like this: he was her baby, her youngest, and she would always want to protect him.

"Am I the only one who seems to remember that in the past three weeks he has been stabbed twice and put into a coma by the Seer!?" She exclaimed, raising her hands up to express her outrage. She believed she had a right to be this protective of her son, especially after all of that. She couldn't stand to let something else happen to him again even if her protectiveness displeased her son. She was the mother of one of the most powerful witches ever to be born so it was her right to act this way when the freaking _Seer_ was after him!

"Piper, we all remember what happened, but he's still just a kid. No teenager likes to feel like he's trapped in a plastic bubble," Phoebe told her sister, "You just need to give him some space and remember that he can pretty much take care of himself when it comes to demons." A small smile grew on her face before she added, "He did take out a whole clan for Pete's sake. I think that proves enough."

Piper gave a nod and agreed. It was true, her youngest had turned out to be much stronger than they had expected, but he was still just that: _young. _He still tended to fight foolishly, put himself in situations that put him in great danger without any worry of consequences. He was reckless and stubborn--the latter being inherited from her. She assumed that recklessness came from his age--most teenagers were that way around sixteen and she knew Wyatt was somewhat like that as well. She was always going to feel the need to protect him, to protect _both_ of her children.

"I'm going to go give him some tea," Phoebe told her older sister, holding up the warm mug as to remind her that she was still holding it, "Let him be for a bit. It's not like he can really go anywhere in this rain anyway."

"Rain's never stopped Chris before," Piper replied with a small laugh as the two sister's started their way up the stairs, "I'll head back up to the attic and start looking through the Book again for our possible leads."

Phoebe gave a nod at this and told her sister she'd be joining her shortly. The two made it up the stairs and went their separate ways, each on a mission that involved the same rebellious witch.

* * *

Chris stared down at his notebook, features contorted with annoyance and hate, reading over the four verses of the spell he had come up with in distaste. It was utterly terrible. The wording so far left many loop holes and many ways for the spell to be interpreted wrong. He sat at his desk, same pencil that he had been tapping against his desk during school in his hands. He had changed into a dry pair of clothes and had a damp towel wrapped loosely around his neck. He swiftly turned on his stereo and allowed the small room to be filled with music. Music always tended to calm him, and hell, did he need some calm right about then. He only had two days to get this spell right. He didn't see it happening though, and Plan B was looking to be what would actually happen. Plan B wasn't exactly looking too grand though, but spell writing was just not his forte. He really wished he could ask for help, he really wanted to ask his mother or aunts to help him on this one, but he couldn't tell them what was about to happen. Like Wyatt, they'd try to stop the kidnapping all together, and that was a _terrible_ idea. Sometimes his mother aunts were _too_ stubborn--there were times when you just had to make a sacrifice, and he understood that. He was willing to let himself suffer if that meant his family wouldn't--he had seen them suffer enough in his visions and he could not handle it if it happened in real life.

His eyes landed back down on the lined paper, reading over the first few phrases once again. It was complete _shit._ Chris suddenly grasped the piece of paper and teared it out of his notebook, crumbling it up into a small ball before he tossed it with force into the trash can. He let out an annoyed grunt as he ruffled the towel through his damp hair, the cold wet strands brushing against his skin, causing a chill to run through him.

There was a knock at the door and Chris turned his gaze towards it, wondering with annoyance if it was his mother. He didn't want to be bothered by anyone--especially her--at the moment. He was running out of time.

He didn't respond, hoping that maybe whoever it was would take the hint and realize that he wanted to be left alone. He heard the doorknob jiggle and listened as he heard his aunt speak his name as she pushed the door open slightly. She gave him a smile as she slid into his room, holding up the warm cup of tea in her hands.

"I brought you some tea," she told him as she made her way over to the young witch, handing him over the warm mug as he thanked her before she sat down on the bed.

She watched as he took a sip, eyes cast down towards the liquid, thoughts instantly going somewhere else. She wished she could still get readings off of him, because she honesty had no idea what he was feeling at the moment. She still wondered if it was the same things he'd been feeling the last time--still all jumbled and chaotic, so many emotions flying around at once. She did know one thing though--he was slightly annoyed she was bothering him. She could pick that up by the way he looked at her as she walked in. She had interrupted something, but she wasn't quite sure what. Her eyes travelled over to the desk, spotting his notebook and pencil, starting the draw conclusions.

"Were you doing your homework?" she asked, causing the boy's gaze to shoot up towards her.

"Yeah," He replied, "I've got a lot of make-up work, all thanks to the wonderful _Seer_." He spat her name out with such venom and hate, and Phoebe honestly felt the same way about her. Going after her nephew like that, putting him into that coma, it just angered her to no end. Seeing Chris in that hospital bed, unmoving and skin practically feeling as if it was on fire was heartbreaking. Everyone in the family pretty much wanted to see the Seer suffer ten times worse than Chris had, and none of them would stop until she was taken care of and they were sure that Chris was safe.

"Honey," she started, watching as he took another sip of tea, "we still don't know exactly why the Seer is after you." He looked up at her, a look in his eyes that told Phoebe he knew exactly what she was going to say next, "Do you have any idea?" A pause, "I mean, you must have some clue, right?"

Chris didn't answer her, just took another sip of his tea and turned his chair back towards his desk, grabbing up his pencil before placing his mug down on the desk.

He was avoiding the question which instantly made Phoebe believe that he knew more than he had told them. That newly acquired trait of secrecy was really starting to irk her. In this type of situation, they needed to know _everything_. This was the type of situation where you stopped being so secretive and started asking for help. The other Chris had been that way too: always taking things on on his own, sometimes getting himself in over his head. She had really hoped that their Chris would not develop the same trait, but apparently it wasn't so.

"Chris," she called his name, waiting for the boy to turn back around, voice taking on a serious and stern tone.

When he simply ignored her yet again she swiftly grabbed onto his chair, swirling him suddenly back to face her. His eyes were wide with shock as he faced her again, expression quickly changing from surprise to irritation at her sudden action. She kept her hand on the chair, knowing full well that her nephew would probably try to turn the chair back around to ignore her again. He was such a stubborn kid, and it really irritated her at times, especially times like these.

"You can not keep this information secret," she told her nephew, instantly getting the death-glare from him at this. He crossed his arms and stared at her with those narrowed jade eyes, his look practically matching the one his mother had given her minutes earlier. "We need to know everything you know." Chris tried to turn his chair back around, but Phoebe instantly pulled it right back.

"_Stop,_" he hissed.

"Chris," her voice took on a warning tone as the boy stared at her, arms crossed again and eyes still narrowed, "tell me."

"I don't know anything," Chris shot back, matching her look of irritation tenfold, "I already told you guys everything I know. She was just there after I defeated the Cornu. She grabbed onto me, I started feeling weird, I threw her into a wall and that's when things start to get fuzzy." Of course he was leaving a few parts out of that story, like how Valerian had told him all about the other him and what his visions really were, but that was information he didn't want to share. Just because his aunt decided to give him that stern look and try to force him to tell her everything didn't mean he would. He had become quite good at lying after the last few months, so lying to Aunt Phoebe would be a piece of cake. "She didn't _tell_ me what she wanted, she just grabbed onto me." He paused, watching as his aunt's expression changed a bit. She was believing him. Thank God. "I'm a freaking _Halliwell_. Maybe that's why she's after me, but we don't even know if she even is anymore--she hasn't come after me since the coma. Maybe it's over."

Phoebe loosened her grip from the chair and the two Halliwell's just stared at one another. Chris did have a point--the Seer had many chances to do whatever she wanted to do to Chris while he was in that coma, yet she hadn't. He'd been awake for four days now and there had been no attacks. Things had just been very calm regarding demons lately, so maybe Chris was right. Maybe it _was_ over ... But they'd never really know for sure until they looked into it more, and that twas what they'd do.

There was another knock on the door, causing both pairs of eyes to shoot over towards the sound, each instantly spotting Leo peaking in. He was still in his Magic School robes, wearing a small smile on his face as he spotted his son and sister-in-law.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting," he apologized, still smiling, as his eyes landed on Phoebe. Before he knocked on the door he had heard Chris going on about the Seer, so he was assuming Phoebe was trying to get his son to give them more information. They all felt he was hiding something--that feeling had been there for months now--and the longer he hid things from them the harder it was to help him.

Phoebe's lips curled up into a smile, but it was Chris' voice that responded to the apology:

"You're not," he said bluntly, Phoebe's eyes shooting over to his and catching onto the look in his eyes and tone to his voice. He was telling her that the conversation was over, that what she had just heard was going to be all that she was going to get. He could handle everything on his own, if he could ever get himself to write out a good spell.

Leo had made his way more into the room and now both occupants could see his full figure. Both sets of eyes had travelled back to him and he locked eyes with his son before starting up again, "I was thinking that maybe we could continue training with your Electrokinesis. The Elders want to make sure you have a good enough control over it--it's a rather strong power for someone your age."

Electrokinesis was known to be one of the more challenging powers to gain control over and he was very pleased with his son's success with it. After only a few training sessions he had gained a good amount of control over it. Chris had seen the power as an inconvenience, which had ended up making him even more determined to gain control over it faster. He couldn't exactly be a normal kid like he wanted to while electricity was shooting out from his hands.

Chris honestly didn't like the idea of going off and training with his father and an Elder at the moment. He had other priorities ... but then again, if his spell did work he would need to be more physically prepared. If he spent some time training with his (somewhat) new power maybe he could use it to get the advantage over the Seer. That power was the strongest thing he had, and since it was an Elder power, it could really help him in vanquishing her. For the first time since he obtained this power, he actually kind of _liked_ it. It could really save his ass.

"Alright," Chris agreed--much to both Leo and Phoebe's shock--and stood up from his seat. He instantly spotted the surprise in both of their expressions and rolled his eyes. He usually would have been a little more reluctant to agreeing to go train, but it would really benefit him when it came to the Seer. The spell could wait (it wasn't like it was really coming along to be honest) and besides, he was a better fighter anyway.

He made his way over to his father and wrapped his hand around his arm, not even deciding to respond to their looks, and orbed the two of them to Magic School.

* * *

Electricity was bursting from Chris' hands, sparking and flying in a somewhat chaotic but completely controlled manner. It felt like it had been ages since he had used this power and even though he still held a hate for it, it was definitely one of his more fascinating powers. It was strong, so strong that he sometimes found it hard to believe he really had it. He was Chris Halliwell, not the Twice-Blessed, and he never expected he would end up with a power that was near as powerful as his brother's. For some reason, that fact just made it feel so good to use sometimes. It helped with his inferiority complex quite a lot, especially when he would catch a glimpse of Wyatt's jealous face whenever he used it.

At the moment he was in a wide open room, watching as Sandra--the Elder that had been helping him learn how to control it--demonstrated different techniques. After she was done, he'd have to mimic it. It wasn't too hard of a challenge, but here and there he got stuck on it. His father watched from a few feet away, giving advice and briefly chatting with Sandra every so often. His father was so happy though, and that big smile he had worn the first time he had seen Chris use his power was back. He loved when either he or Wyatt gained a new power because then he was the one who would help them train with it. This was his father's favorite form of bonding even though he was a mortal now. A part of his father still wished he could use magic like he used to, Chris could see it in his eyes sometimes. There was this small twinkle while he watched him, thoughts getting sucked back into the past, reminiscing about how things used to be. Magic had been his father's whole world after his real death, which made it the reason that he and Wyatt even existed in the first place. The whole magic thing had ended up being one of the reasons why they started to not get along lately--his hate grew while it seemed that his father's love for it just kept blossoming. It caused a lot of hostility between them.

As Chris finished up another move with ease, his father raised from his seat, robs swirling and smile beaming.

"Good," he exclaimed with had noticed how his father had been watching so carefully and how enthralled he had been with it. Hell, Chris hadn't even been that into it and he was the one who was training. He gave his father a small smile anyway, watching as he started towards them.

Leo placed a hand on his son's shoulder as he reached him, "I'll be back in a few minutes," he informed the two of them, eyes shooting from his youngest to Sandra, "I've just got to go to brief faculty meeting." He honesty would rather stay with his son and continue on with the training, but he had other obligations as well. Chris had gained a great control over his power quickly though, and that just made Leo feel so proud of his boy. As much as his son hated magic, he was still quite good with it, just like he used to be. They both also had a vast amount of knowledge when it came to magical things. Chris had taken up reading about anything and everything magical when he was younger, which had led him to come somewhat close to matching Leo's knowledge around fourteen. That thought made him smile as well--Chris being like him. He was happy to see that he had done things right this time and Chris hadn't ended up completely detesting him.

Sandra gave a nod at this and with one last look towards his son, Leo made his way out of the room.

Things got awkward then for Chris. Being left alone in a room with an Elder wasn't something that he liked very much. Like his mother and aunts, he wasn't exactly the Elders biggest fan. His hate for all things magic lately didn't help that any either. The two made awkward eye contact briefly, Chris instantly looking away and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He made his way over to where his father had been sitting and plopped down into the chair. He lowered his eyes towards his shoes as he slouched down, mind instantly starting up with thoughts about the Seer and his plan. If he could get the damn wording right, he could recite it quickly when Bianca orbed him down to the Seer and instantly get his powers back. What if it didn't work though? That thought had been plaguing him since he thought up the plan. Things never seemed to work out the way they were supposed to anymore for him. It was like something _wanted_ him to fail. The last time, when he thought he was in the clear, the Seer had come out of nowhere and forced him into that coma. He had a feeling that something wouldn't let him succeed with this plan as well. God, when had he become so pessimistic? Oh yeah, about nine months ago. Thanks again magic for those_ lovely_ visions.

"I heard the Seer had put you into a coma," Sandra said, instantly pulling Chris from his thoughts and causing his eyes to land on her. She was standing a few feet away from him now, staring at him with that emotionless face that most Elders seemed to portray, "It's good to see you've woken up."

"Yeah," he replied with a shrug, eyes suddenly catching onto something in her eyes. The way she was looking at him made him feel like she_ knew_ something. She was trying to hide that she did, but her eyes had given it away in a brief second, and now Chris felt like a complete idiot for not realizing it. She was an Elder. They kept a careful eye on his family constantly, so they had to have caught onto it by now, and besides, they knew of all his powers before he would even get them. That look had just assured him.

"You know about what I've been seeing, don't you?" He asked her, taking her by surprise though her expression still kept a calm and collected look. He sat up straight in his chair, rather curious as to hear her answer. If she really did know, then maybe they could help him out, prevent him from getting kidnapped at all, maybe even take it away!

"We do," she replied, referring to all of the Elders, "We know all about the other you, Christopher." She paused, instantly grabbing his interest with the last statement, "But we can't tell you anything."

"I honesty have learned more than enough about the other me," Chris told her, a bit peeved at the use of his full name. He hated when people called him Christopher. It was usually reserved for when he was in big trouble with his parents, but the Elders would never call him Chris--they were too formal for that. Another reason why he wasn't their biggest fan.

"Could you make it all stop?" he asked her, hope filling him up. The possibility that she would say yes was leaving him with that feeling. He had been waiting for so long for someone to tell him that they could make it all stop, and the Elders could do that. They were some of the most powerful beings ever to exist, they _had _to be able to stop it.

"Christopher," she started, her tone (one that shined his fear that she would say no) practically swallowing up all of his hope, "you are given your powers for a reason--"

Chris stopped her before she could even go on with her lecture, "I don't give a fuck if I was given this for a reason!" He spat back at her, voice harsh and filled with venom, eyes narrowed with hate, "I can't handle this anymore. I don't want this, I never _asked _for this! Just take it away," the anger in his voice suddenly vanished and his expression fell, "_please_." He was going to curse himself for doing this later, but he was begging her, begging _them_ to take it all away. It just wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry, Christopher," she told him, voice still authoritative and stern, "but the answer is no."

And that was that. All his hope was crushed within minutes, swelling up into the pit of his stomach, causing a small ache to start, because the Elders had denied him his only chance, because Sandra had told him '_no_.'

* * *

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you review!

The next chapter will be the fourth day, aka the day of the kidnapping. Really excited to write the next chapter, and I will begin as soon as i can--I've been waiting SO long to write it!

I will get the chapter up as soon as it's done!

Thank you all again for reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

:)


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own ideas (and I think after eighteen chapters I've established this.)**

Thanks to all who reviewed last chapter; I love to hear what you all think and hopefully you will continue to keep it up!

I was so excited to right this chapter, I've been waiting so long to, so I hope you all enjoy it!

:)

* * *

The sun was shining bright that day, no clouds blocking its rays and no rain pouring down in sheets. Chris' back was against the hard ground, staring up at the sky as he smoked a cigarette. The weather was beautiful, but he felt no happiness towards it. He could hear Patricia and Henry running around the front yard of the Manor, playing some make-believe game, laughing and smiling. Patricia was beaming more than ever. She was now seven-years-old and nothing seemed to be able to put a damper on her mood.

Chris had offered to watch the two younger ones as the played outside, giving the adults some time to chat between each other. He wanted to focus on the beautiful sky, on the idea that at that moment, he was pretty much just having a normal, non-magic filled day, but he couldn't. His mind was on the two folded pieces of paper in his pocket, the stiff edges of each practically prodding his side; a constant reminder of what was going to happen to him later that day.

He had finished the spell, after many,_ many_ rewrites. He had finally gotten the wording right after pulling an all-nighter the night before. He orbed himself to the magic school library, picked up some books on spells, and stayed up the whole night rewriting and revising his spell until he felt it was right. It still was not that great, but he believed it would be strong enough to bring his powers back. Bianca was a Phoenix, it wasn't like she was _that _powerful. The spell should do, and then he would kick the Seer's ass and orb on home and everything will be over ... Well, that was if things actually worked out that way. Knowing his luck, they may not.

And that was what the second piece of paper was for. It was no spell, held no magic power. It was just a simple letter, addressed to Wyatt. It expressed how his brother was to go about the back-up plan if he did not return like planned. Of course, Wyatt had been kept in the dark about his first plan, so he would probably be furious when he read the letter. He was hoping Wyatt would follow his instructions, not act rashly and just orb down to the Underworld with no plan. It would be hard to find him in the first place--he highly doubted that the Seer would keep him somewhere that was easily accessible. He did stress though, that what the Seer wanted, she could not get. Though Chris didn't even know if there really had been something that had caused his brother to "snap," he still needed to protect what he knew to keep Wyatt (and the rest of the world) safe. He would fight her off for as long as he could--which would probably be pretty long, considering he wasn't that willing to go into his visions in the first place--and then, hopefully, Wyatt would find him before he broke. He just needed to deliver the letter, and his back-up plan would be secure.

"Cwris!" Patricia called his name, causing the older Halliwell to look up towards the girl. She was peering down at him, wearing a bright smile, that gap where her two front teeth had been still there, "Will you play with us?"

He mustered up the strongest smile he could and sat up, adjusting himself so he was sitting crisscross as he tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette. An idea had suddenly struck him--he needed his letter delivered sometime after he was kidnapped, so Wyatt wouldn't read it right away (because Chris knew he would) and who better to deliver it than Patricia. He'd turn it into a game. Patricia _loved _games.

"Yeah," he replied, watching as her smile brightened, "I've got a game." His hand instantly dug into his pocket, pulling out the piece of paper with his brother's name on it, "I need you to deliver this secret message to Wyatt for me."

She took the letter from his hand and exclaimed, "That's easy!" She rolled her eyes and placed a hand on her hip.

"The thing is though," he started up again, catching her attention, "you can't deliver it until 5:15."

"Why?" she asked, eyebrow raised in curiosity. Her eyes were on the letter, hands fiddling with it as she examined the folded pieces of paper. She went to unfold it, small fingers wrapping around the edge of the paper, before Chris interrupted.

"No, Patricia!" he held his hand up, faking shock and fear, "If you open the letter, it'll explode! That's why Wyatt can't open it until 5:15. That's the only time when Wyatt can deactivate the bomb." Wow, he actually felt pretty intelligent for coming up with this plan. Patricia would play along like she always did, and this way, Wyatt would get the letter right after his kidnapping, so there would be no way for him to stop it.

"Oh!" Patricia exclaimed, stuffing the note quickly into her pocket, "Alright! I'll deliver it right on time, Cwris, I promise!" Her smile was still beaming, and she seemed even more excited since Chris had introduced his 'game.'

"Good," Chris replied with a smile, hand smashing the butt of his cigarette into the cement. Now that he had that taken care of the letter, he had one less thing to worry about. For the next--his eyes shot over to the clock on his phone--hour he could relax. Maybe even get some sleep.

He stood from his spot on the ground and brushed the ash off his jeans, ready to head to his room and attempt to actually get some rest. His total hours of sleep for the last four days was a whopping _four_ hours, so he honestly was exhausted beyond belief.

"Cwris," Patricia started up, causing the teenager to look down at her, "can I ask you something?" She wore a curious expression, head somewhat tilted as she looked up at him. He had a good five feet on her and she seemed so small from where he stood. To her, he must have seemed so big.

He gave the young girl a nod, motioning for her to go on.

"I heard a very mean lady is after you," she started, causing Chris to instantly tense up. He wasn't surprised she was asking or that she knew--the younger children of the Halliwell family weren't completely kept in the dark--but hearing her ask him about it just made him uncomfortable. He didn't like to think about her, he didn't like to think about the possibility that his plan wouldn't work out. He was honestly still acting recklessly, he knew that, but that was just the way he was. He was just so sick of everything, he wanted this whole ordeal to end.

"Are you afraid?" Patricia's question was asked with such a small, worried voice. He had never heard Patricia--the little seven-year-old who always had a smile on her face--ever talk like that. She was afraid _for _him, and that just made him feel even more like his plan wouldn't work. The Seer was strong and he didn't know if he could really beat her. But he wasn't going to be afraid, he'd take everything she had, he'd fight as hard as he could, because if that meant he would be granted a chance to let things settle back down to normal, than he would gladly take it.

"Nah," he replied, giving her a small smirk, "I'm not afraid of _anything_."

"Really?" she asked, eyes wide, "_Nothing?"_

"Nope." Chris stated, still smiling as he ruffled a hand through her hair, "Nothing."

She gave a smile at that and the two started their way back in the house, Henry Jr. swiftly following behind them as he noticed they were heading into the Manor.

Deep down though, Chris was afraid. He was _really_ afraid.

* * *

_Nothing was like it used to be anymore. Ever since Wyatt had taken over, the city had turned into something Chris barely even recognized. The sun rarely shined; it was always blocked out by the ashy gray swirls of smoke that rose from the burning buildings and debris from the street. The city had completely changed it's color palette--the once vibrant greens of the grass in the park had turned dull and muddy, along with the rest of the colors of the buildings and the streets. Even the one place he had used to call home was nothing like it used to be. Windows were broken and the door was scratched up. The only difference between it and the buildings around it was that it was actually still standing. Wyatt had ordered that the Manor be practically undamaged. It was considered sacred ground to all and if one was ever caught messing with it they would be killed. The ones who had broken the windows and destroyed the door with scratches had all met that fate._

_Though the outside had taken a few rocks, the inside was practically the same as it used to be. The air felt much more murky than it used to, but pretty much the whole city felt like that. Chris had gotten used to it over time--they all had. Wyatt had plans to turn the Manor into a museum pretty soon. He had heard rumors about it during his trips to the Underworld. His brother planed to use it as a constant reminder of his heritage and his power. If the people feared him, then he could stay in power. The twenty-year-old Ruler of All Evil saw fear as his best weapon, and he was right. If his people feared him, then he would always hold control over them._

_Chris made his way up the old, creaking stairs, eyes scanning over old family photos that hung on the wall. There was one of him and Wyatt, six and eight respectively, at the park, tossing a ball to one another, bright smiles curled up on both pairs of lips. Chris remembered that day. His mother and father had took them to the park and Wyatt had decided that he wanted to start playing baseball, so his father had been training the older boy. Leo hadn't really wanted to allow him to play, insisting that he and Wyatt needed to stick to learning and that they didn't have time for him to join in, but his mother had given his father that death-glare and he instantly agreed to let the younger boy play. It had been a fun day for him. Back in the time where he still worshiped his father and every second with him was the most amazing thing to him. That had changed a few years later, and Chris had finally realized that his father didn't care for him as much as Wyatt._

_As he made it up each step, the pictures began to jump back and forth through time. There were ones of his mother and aunts when they were young, ones of his parents, ones of his grandmother, ones of he and Wyatt when they had finally both entered their teenage years. It was weird to see what once was. Things were so different now, and nothing could ever go back to the way things used to be._

_He made it up the last step and started his way to his old room, eyes still examining the few pictures on the wall. He had no idea why he had decided to come that day. It was extremely dangerous for him to be there, especially since he topped Wyatt's Most Wanted list. He had had to spend his time hiding and running for years, keeping his identity a secret as well as trying to help and save innocents. His name was everywhere; every mortal, witch, and demon knew who he was and knew the reward for his capture. Years ago, Wyatt would have been the one looking all by himself, but he now had more important things to do. There would be the occasional time where he would catch Wyatt searching for him. Whenever Lord Wyatt was given a lead to his whereabouts he'd instantly shimmer himself there to do a thorough search. He usually kept himself one step ahead of his brother, making sure that the older man could not find him and capture him._

_The cracking of glass from bellow his foot instantly caught Chris' attention, causing the teenager to avert his gaze to the floor. There was an old frame under his sneaker, the glass now cracked in several places, thanks to his foot. He eased off the frame and stared down at the picture, instantly recognizing it and picking it up from the ground to get a closer look._

_He rubbed off some of the dust with his hand, allowing the image to appear clearer. It was a family portrait. The last they ever took. He was thirteen, soon to be fourteen, and Wyatt was sixteen. They all looked so happy in the portrait, though Chris hadn't been too pleased to see his father when the Elder orbed in. He had faked that smile somewhat, wishing dearly that he could throw his father into the wall and get his hand from off of his shoulder. He didn't like the idea of faking happiness when he was around his father, but he had done it for his mother. Still, even if he hated his father back then, things had been _alright. _He desperately wished that things could go back to being that way, that everything could just turn back to the way it used to be back then. His brother wouldn't be evil, the city would not look the way it did, his mother would still be alive and his family would not all be _dead.

_How did this happen? When did everything just turn to shit like this? Why had his brother done this to the world?_

_Those questions had been left unanswered for years. Chris could never think of an answer. He had spent sleepless nights going through every single thing he could remember about his life and childhood and could never find a way to explain why this had happened. Maybe it was something small, something that he couldn't remember that had changed his brother? That was the only explanation he could think of, but that didn't help him much. He would find answers though, and he would make sure this world changed back to the way it used to be. Somehow ..._

_He suddenly felt a presence behind, catching onto the soft footsteps against the floor. He wasn't afraid, wasn't worried. He knew who it was, and he was almost thankful to know they had come. _

_He felt two slender hands wrap around his torso from behind, a head rest on his shoulder as her long hair brushed against his skin. He titled his head towards hers, jade eyes still glued to the old picture in the frame._

_She stared as well, brown eyes examining the old family photo, staring at the old version of her boyfriend and Lord Wyatt with curiosity. They looked so happy. What had happened to them that would cause things to turn out like this? She could tell Chris was thinking the same thing, that sad, dull expression falling on his features. He barely showed any emotion anymore. He had learned to block it off, keep it all inside, because all it would do was get in the way. His love for his brother had taught him that. If he let that get in the way, he'd never be able to do what he would eventually have to do. There was no use denying the inevitable, and Chris knew that. One day he'd have to take his brother on, and kill him. It was the only way._

_She felt the need to comfort him, seeing him so distraught, so she wrapped her arms around him tighter, feeling as his head fell more towards her own, "I love you." She told him, eyes shifting up to look towards her boyfriend._

_After a moment, Chris' gaze finally fell away from the picture and he replied, "I love you too, Bianca."_

Chris' eyes shot open and instantly locked with his father's matching jade orbs. The older man wore a smile and watched as his youngest sat himself up in bed, eyes never leaving his as the boy ran a hand through his messy hair.

"Finally getting some sleep?" Leo started up, still smiling. He had heard his son shuffling around the house at night lately. The kid was seeming to suffer from a bout of insomnia at the moment. His son had been having sleeping problems for quite sometime though, so he wasn't too surprised. He was thinking of taking him to a doctor though, to maybe help him get more rest. The boy always looked so worn, always had those dark circles around his eyes. That worried him.

Leo received a nod and a shrug from his son along with the response, "Guess so." He sat himself crisscross on the bed, checking the time quickly as he picked up his phone. It was 4:42. He had eighteen minutes, _eighteen _minutes. He was thinking the whole thing would take about an hour, considering if all went well. If they didn't though, then he honestly didn't know how long it'd take. He had written to Wyatt to wait till the next day, just in case.

"Why'd you come up here?" he asked his father, "You enjoy watching me sleep or something?"

Leo gave a laugh at that, "Actually, I used to do that a lot when you were younger." He admitted with a smile. He had done that to both of his children, but especially Chris. His youngest had held a special place in his heart for that. Whenever he saw him asleep, calm and clinging to his teddy bear--oddly named Panda Bear, for what reason he and Piper never knew--he couldn't help but smile. Seeing him safe and at peace just made Leo so happy. Chris more than anyone had earned and deserved that happiness. As he grew older though, especially recently, that happy Chris had disappeared from his waking hours. Things had completely changed, and now the only time Chris seemed at peace was his sleep. It made him look years younger in Leo's eyes, and always reminded him that the little happy boy that was once there was still inside him somewhere. Of course, Chris would never be that happy and innocent again, but he prayed that his son finally gained happiness once again.

"Oh, and that's not creepy at _all_," Chris responded with a jibe and roll of his eyes, just like Leo had expected him to. Chris let his legs dangle off the bed before he stood up and stretched his stiff limbs.

"I'm guessing you should get back to mom," he started, making his way past his father, "repot to her that I'm safe and in the house, not stuck in some demon infested alley." He wasn't stupid, he knew his mother had probably sent his father to look for him. She still liked to know where he was at all times, though she had eased up on her overprotectiveness, thankfully. "I'll be in the sun room, if she needs to know."

Chris started his way out of his room and quickly made his way into the sun room, checking the time of the clock that sat near the piano as entered. He had exactly ten minutes... His eyes landed on the black and white keys to the piano, hands instantly tingling with that familiar sensation. Playing would relax him, give him that one good feeling of normalcy before the chaos began. He slid onto the bench, letting his fingers slide over the keys quickly before he remembered a tune and began to play.

That's when his mind wandered off to Bianca. The other him and Bianca had _loved_ each other. How had he fallen in love with a _Phoenix_? Especially one that looked to be five years older than him. His other self must have been quite the charmer, because he had no clue how he'd manage to snag a girl like that in this reality. He had always pictured himself with someone like Zooey--not that she wasn't pretty, but she was his _age_. The other him had gotten an _older_ woman. He wished he could get a girl like that.

He slid his hands along the keys, producing a combination of sounds as his eyes travelled back to the clock.

Seven minutes left.

So Bianca had loved him, he had loved Bianca ... Wow. This was a strange revaluation, given the fact that the Bianca of this world had told him she had felt some weird connection to him. Maybe this was it? Maybe she still felt some of the emotions the other Bianca felt towards him? He wouldn't be surprised if it happened to be that. It did make sense, however odd the whole situation was.

He pounded his foot against a pedal and played another long set of fast notes, eyes wandering back to that clock.

Three minutes.

Three minutes. _Three minutes_! Holy crap, time was really running short now. In a few minutes he'd have to go along with his own kidnapping, have his power's stripped, then return them and vanquish the Seer. That was a hell of a lot of magic and a hell of a lot to go through in a day. One magical thing a day was his limit at the moment, but apparently the universe couldn't follow that rule. He'd already had his one magical thing--a vision--that day and yet there was still so much more to happen. Things would settle down when this was all over ... well, he hoped.

His eyes went back to the clock, fingers still pounding and foot still stomping.

It was five exactly.

In seconds, Bianca would shimmer in and the show would begin. He fingers almost stopped pressing down against the keys as he saw the time, but he forced himself to keep going. He'd play for as long as he could and when he heard Bianca shimmer in, he'd let his fingers cease their movements. He was oddly relaxed, given the circumstances. The piano had indeed helped calm his nerves and as long as he played he'd thankfully feel that way. It was the last normal thing he'd feel for a few hours at least--though he doubted things would feel normal after he returned anyway.

That familiar faint sound of shimmering was heard along with the music, and Chris instantly felt her presence right behind him.

"How long have you been playing?" she asked as she neared the piano, eyes following Chris' fingers as he slide them across the keys and pressed down against different sets, never missing a beat.

"Since I was seven." He replied, letting his eyes dart over to the clock as he played the last set of notes, fingers still moving, as he added, "You're five minutes late."

She let out a small laugh at that and rolled her eyes as Chris turned to face her from his spot on the piano bench after closing the lid. She crossed her arms and stared at the teenager, an odd feeling overcoming her. She didn't understand what it was or why it happened, but whenever she saw him or heard his name that feeling would come and fill her up. She felt something for this teenager and she had no idea why or what it was. She wondered if he felt it too ...

The look on his face was so serious and shined a bit of frustration, and she couldn't believe the kid was mad that she was five minutes late for his kidnapping. "Sorry," she apologized, "I didn't know that you were that eager to be kidnapped."

"I'm just _itchin'_ with excitement," he replied, a small smirk forming on his lips as he leaned his elbows back against the piano. His expression suddenly changed for a moment, features falling, before he looked back up her way and sat up straight, features serious again.

"Can I ask you something?"

Bianca gave a nod in response and crossed her arms, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Do you know why the Seer's after me?" He inquired simply.

"Yeah," Bianca replied, "I know all about the visions you've been seeing."

The Seer had briefly informed her on why she wanted the witch so bad. The visions apparently were of some other reality where the older brother of Chris was evil and demons could run free, doing whatever they pleased. The Seer had explained that she wanted to make that other world their own reality and in order to do that she needed Chris. Bianca had had her doubts about continuing on with her mission after learning that, but if it wasn't her, someone else would go after Chris.

Chris stood up from his spot on the piano bench and crossed his arms, "If you know what I've been seeing, then why would you trust me so easily to go with you?" He asked her. "Why agree to my plan when it could have easily backfired on you?"

Bianca let out a laugh and made her way over to Chris, stopping inches away from him, brown eyes staring straight into his jade ones, "I didn't trust you," she replied, hand sliding down to Chris' pocket, startling the boy, "I kept an eye on you, just to make sure things would work out." She slid her hand in and grasped the piece of paper with three fingers. She pulled out the spell and held it up her hand, eyes darting over to the paper.

"Sorry," she told him, eyes moving back to the teenager right as the paper burst into flames, "But you can't keep this."

Chris felt a pain at the pit of his stomach start to swell up and consume him. He had not been expecting that, and all of the all-nighters he pulled to get that spell done had ended up being all for nothing. Now he would have to wait for Wyatt's rescue, and who knew how long that would be. He really wanted to fight her, he could feel his fingers twitching, eager to not let himself be taken away so easily, but he couldn't. After seeing that vision, the unknown lingering feeling that had been caught in the back of his mind whenever he thought of Bianca had gotten a name. How could he possibly fight the woman that the other him had fallen in love with?

Bianca instantly grabbed his arm and moved to his back, pressing a stiff hand against it. She was getting ready to strip his powers; she was going to dig her hand into his chest and suck away everything. He'd be defenseless--well, he still had his fists, but honestly, the Seer wouldn't be begging for mercy because he punched her a few times. He was so _screwed_.

"Again," she started, nails digging into Chris' arm as she held it tight, "I'm so sorry for this." He felt her hand press harder against his back.

"Wait!" He kept his voice somewhat hushed, though stern, as he stopped her, "I've got to tell you something." He felt the hand on his back instantly ease up, giving Chris the signal to go on, "The connection," he started, "I fell it too, and I know what it is."

Bianca was taken back by this, brown eyes wide as she stared at the younger boy's profile. She was more than curious at this revelation. She had been trying to figure out what it was ever since she first heard his name, but she just couldn't come up with a logical answer.

"We loved each other." Chris' voice was soft, thoughts falling back onto the vision he had seen earlier, the feeling of Bianca's arms wrapped around him for comfort. They had really been in love, a love Chris thought only existed in story books. He could feel it, feel their connection that was so strong and so meaningful. He never expected that he'd fall in love, especially the version of him in the other reality. It didn't seem like anything but hate could blossom from the wreckage of that world.

"I saw it in my vision," he went on, catching the surprised and shocked expression on her face, "I _felt_ it."

Suddenly, everything made sense to Bianca. The feelings she had for this teenager--the need to protect him, to keep him safe--was _love._ She had loved this boy in that reality, and those feelings still lingered within her. A part of the other her was somewhere inside of her mind, and that's why she recognized the name. He was so much younger than her though--_five years _younger. She doubted that mattered in the other reality, but still ... she had loved Christopher Perry Halliwell.

"I just thought you should know," Chris told her after a long pause, snapping Bianca from her thoughts and placing her back in the moment, "You can continue on with my kidnapping now." He told her, reaching back and pushing her hand hard against his back, eyes looking up towards her as he released her hand. He could see she was starting to back down from her decision to kidnap him. The revelation had pretty much shocked her to the point where she seemed to forget that this was for the best. If she didn't take them, then there was no doubt in his mind the next demon sent after him would hurt him or his family. This was the easiest way, though Chris wished he didn't have to go through with it. Sometimes you just had to make a sacrifice, he guessed.

"Bianca," he called her name, causing her eyes to snap back up to his, locking instantly. She saw the look, she had heard his tone, and she knew that it was time to start.

She pressed his hand against his back a little harder, taking a deep breath, the idea of pressing her hand into his chest and putting him into a serious amount of pain without his knowledge making her hesitant. She had to do it though. If she didn't then someone else would, and she doubted they'd let him go without any serious injuries.

"I'm so sorry." She repeated once again, whispering it into his ear as she took one last deep breath and pushed her hand into his chest.

* * *

Patricia clutched a letter in her hands, eyes darting from her cousin Wyatt to the clock every few seconds. She was dying to open it up and read what it said, but she couldn't. Chris had told her it would blow up if she did--and though she knew that it wasn't true, she liked the game. It was fun and she was sure Wyatt would tell her everything the letter said after he opened it and "diffused the bomb." She had three minutes left and she was starting to get incredibly impatient. She wanted to know what it said! It probably had something to do with something super magical and fun, like demon hunting! Her parents wouldn't let her go--she was too young--but whenever she heard her mother and aunts or cousins talking about it it made her want to go so bad. It sounded like the best game of make-believe--and it was real!

Her eyes wandered towards Wyatt again, briefly locking eyes with him and catching onto the curious glance he sent her way. He sat on the couch a few feet away, watching TV with her older cousins, arms crossed. She wanted to just get up and give him the letter so bad!

Her eyes wandered to the clock and she let out a sigh as she noticed it was _still _not time yet.

"Patricia," Wyatt called her name, causing the girl to turn her head back in his direction, "What do you got there?" He asked her, pointing to the letter in her hand. She had been looking from him to the clock to the letter every few seconds, so he was assuming the letter had something to do with him.

"It's a letter that Chris gave to me," she told him, standing up from her spot on the floor and starting her way to him, "It's for you, but he told me you weren't supposed to open it until after five fifteen, then you could diffuse the bomb in it."

Wyatt stared at the piece of parchment with a raised eyebrow as Patricia held out the letter to him. He grabbed the piece of paper from her hand stared at his name, written in Chris' rather neat handwriting. He had never understood how his brother had developed such neat and legible handwriting. Most Halliwell males in their family had some of the sloppiest handwriting known to men, but somehow Chris had developed perfect handwriting--defying all laws known to men.

The letter was weird though. Why would Chris give him a letter?

His eyes darted to the clock, followed by Patricia's, and he noted the time. He was supposed to wait another two minutes but he just couldn't. Something about this letter was giving him a bad feeling and he needed to open it right away and see what it said. He needed to know what Chris had written.

He unfolded the letter as Patricia began to cry about how he wasn't supposed to open it yet and how he wasn't playing the game right, but he simply ignored her. His eyes scanned the letter, going wide as he read, his heart instantly starting to pump madly. Kidnapping had really gotten him. _Kidnapping?! _What was Chris doing?!

And then, there was a scream. A scream so contorted and painful, yet so recognizable. Wyatt instantly stood from his seat, letter getting crumpled by his tight grip as he yelled, "Chris!"

He rushed to the sound, heart beating fast and wild as he caught his family following him, all rushing with worried looks to the sun room. When they made it to the room and spotted Chris, they instantly spotted the woman behind him. The woman who was holding a _knife _to his brother's throat. Her hand was dug into his chest, a bright light illuminating from it as she drained him, his skin going a pale white, body instantly going weak.

"Goddamn," he heard his brother grunt between pants, "this _really_ hurts."

The older woman whispered something into his ear, and the Chris' dull eyes darted up to his family.

"Stay back!" She ordered, pressing the knife a little closer to his throat.

"Bianca!?" Paige spoke up, eyes wide and filled with a mix of anger and confusion.

The two other sisters and Leo had both been thinking the same thing. What was she doing here? They had thought they'd never see her again, not after Chris changed everything.

"How do you know my name?" she asked, face still stiff and stern, features never creasing to show her confusion or shock.

"Yeah," Chris cut in, voice somewhat pained and weak, "How?"

"Bianca, let him go," Piper started up, choosing to ignore their questions and go straight to saving her son. Seeing him like that--so weak, a knife so close to his throat that a trickle of bright red blood was making it's way down his pale skin--was killing her. She had just gotten him back, they couldn't take him away from her again! "You don't have to do this." Piper started her way towards them, taking slow, gentle steps, arms slightly raised, "Please, don't take him."

Chris felt Bianca's grip loosen a bit and the knife against his throat, drop a bit of the way down. No, his mother was screwing this up! Wyatt would take care of everything from here on out. He wasn't going to just stay here and wait for a more dangerous demon to come in and hurt his family just to get him. This was the best way, and he could trust Wyatt to stop at nothing to get him back. He'd be okay, and his family would have time to think of a good plan and save him. No one would be hurt, they wouldn't feel anymore pain because of him.

"Bianca," Chris called her name, causing her brown eyes to snap back towards him, locking with his jade ones. He lowered his voice, "This is the best way, _please_."

She was struggling, stuck on what to do. She didn't want to send him to whatever the Seer had in store, but either way, Chris would end up there. If it was her who took him down, then she could protect him more in some way, check up on him even maybe. And Chris was begging her to take him; it was "_the best way_," like he said. She instantly tightened her grip and looked back up towards the family, leaving them with one word--voice still stern, but compassion and sorrow leaking out slightly through the cracks:

"Sorry."

The Halliwell family watched as Bianca shimmered out, taking a piece of their family with her.

* * *

Thanks to all who read and hopefully reviewed!

I hope you liked the chapter, and I will try to get the next one up as soon as I finish it. Tons of visions to come, since the Seer now has him, and Chris being cocky and stubborn :)

Until then, thank you again for reading and reviewing (_please!_).

:)


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, blah blah blah, I think we all have a good understand of that now. :)**

Thank you so much to all who reviewed the last chapter, I really appreciate it.

Lucky for you all, I was on Spring Break this week, which means I had a lot of midnight to three in the morning writing sessions, producing you this chapter in such a short period of time!

A note to **JinKa 7**: The Seer isn't the one from the show, it's someone completely new.

Well, I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

:)

* * *

"_To be honest, Christopher," Wyatt started, watching as his brother tugged and pulled at the shackles on his wrists, trying his hardest to break free, flashes of anger and hatred in his eyes, "I'm getting a little sick of this game of cat and mouse."_

_He strode back and forth, black boots slamming hard and stern against the tough ground of the dungeon. He had captured his brother for what felt like the hundredth time since his rule began two years ago. He had honestly lost count of the many times that he had successfully found and kidnapped his brother. As the years went on, Chris began to become better and better at hiding--much to Wyatt's annoyance--and the successful captures had started to become fewer. His brother's skill at hiding and his lack of skill at seeking was really starting to irritate him. This constant childish game of hide-and-seek was really just frustrating Wyatt. _

"_Really?" Chris responded, tugging hard against the shackle that held his right wrist tight, trying to break free. His eyes shot up to Wyatt's, looking at the older boy through strands of messy, dirty hair, "Cause I think it's _super_ fun." He stopped tugging and let his weak arms dangle, a small smirk growing on his lips as he added, "You just don't like it cause you suck at finding me." He paused to let out a short laugh, "You've always been a sore loser."_

_Wyatt's features instantly took on a darker, angrier look and he charged his way over to his brother, slamming the boy's back hard into the wall, "Watch it, Christopher," he warned, pressing the younger Halliwell's back harder into the rock wall, "I may be a sore loser, but I've got an even _worse _temper." _

"_Isn't that the truth." Chris responded, face inches away from his brother's, jade eyes locked with the older boy's brown ones. The two where like that for a few more seconds, staring at each other with narrowed eyes, before Wyatt eased his grip and let the younger brother free._

"_So, I guess my next question's going to be pretty familiar to you," Wyatt started up, crossing his arms as he watched Chris tug a few times at the chains once again, "Will you join me, Christopher?"_

"_I think I've already established the answer to this," Chris responded, still tugging at the chains, trying to break free. He didn't want to be with his brother for too long, especially with the way his temper seemed to be as of late. The Resistance had been really pulling on his strings lately, and earlier that day they had taken a troop of his minions by surprise and wiped them out pretty easily. Wyatt wasn't too happy about that, and Chris didn't want to have his brother take his anger out on him. He really wasn't helping the cause by replying with a supply of sarcastic responses, but he just couldn't help but act like that. Whenever he was involved in a situation like this, he used his sarcasm to hide his fear. It was an excellent mask that he had spent years building up._

"_Just checking to see if you've wised up and changed your mind yet," Wyatt inquired, waiting for his brother to give a response. When Chris gave no answer, just stared up at him with those narrowed jade eyes, Wyatt let out a sigh and stretched his arm to his waist, hand gripping onto a dagger and pulling it out carefully, eyes never leaving his brother._

"_Fine," he started, making his way over to the younger boy, pushing his back up straight against the wall, "We'll keep playing this game, if you insist." _

_Chris suddenly felt a sharp pain in his side, the boy letting out a yelp as he felt the dagger slide into his side, another quick gasp following as he felt the blade be pushed in even more._

"_Let's see how long you can last this time, Christopher," Wyatt pushed the blade in further, causing Chris to yelp again, mouth beginning to get a hint of the crimson taste of blood as it rose from his stomach. The older boy wore a smirk as he added, "This is one game that I'm _rather _good at."_

Chris let out another gasp as he felt himself flash back into reality, his two hands gripping hard onto the Seer's slender arm, trying to pry her off. It _hurt_, so bad. She somehow could make everything feel so much more real, and those lingering feelings of pain he got seemed to last incredibly longer, sometimes even leaving marks on his skin where he had been hit in the was strong, so strong. He hadn't expected it would be this painful. He had not been prepared for this.

Chris tugged at her hand, the shackles around his wrists jangling as he did so, rubbing hard against his already sore and bruising skin. It was odd; he had never expected to find himself chained up the same way the other him had been in his visions, but there he was, legs and arms chained to a spot in the dungeon, allowing little movement and no freedom. Since his arrival to this murky dungeon, he had been forced through about eight visions, all varying in length and degrees of pain. Some had been like the one he had just had--moderately painful--and some had been worse. The occasional happier vision popped up, but the Seer forced him out of those rather quick. She had complete control. It wasn't supposed to be like that; _he_ was supposed to have control. If he had had the damn spell, then he wouldn't even be here anymore! He wasn't sure how long he had been there, but he was assuming it was the next day by now, and Wyatt would hopefully start up on the back-up plan.

Chris tugged at the Seer's arm hard, fingers digging into her skin, "_Get. Off. Me!" _He hissed at the Seer between gritted teeth, pain still lingering through his limbs, radiating from his waist, where the dagger had been stabbed into his stomach.

The Seer suddenly released her hand from his head, tugging much harder than he had been, causing Chris to fall forward, hands releasing their grip and slapping against the hard ground, preventing him from falling completely forward. His eyes instantly snapped up to the demon, narrowing as he stared at her with a hard and hate-filled look.

The demon smirked down at him and leaned down to his level, "Feisty, are we, little Halliwell?"

Chris tugged at his chained arms, using all of his strength to try to break free, teeth gritted as he felt the metal rub against his wrists. If he had his powers, he'd electrocute her until she was screaming for mercy, but no, things just had to get screwed--thanks to Bianca--and now all he could do was grit his teeth and give her rage-filled looks. If he had just taken the time to memorize the whole thing he wouldn't be having this problem. He only could remember certain phrases and words, but he had no order or memory of the full spell. He was such an_ idiot._

"Freaking _bitch_," he spat, jade eyes staring at her with a hard and raging glare.

The Seer's expression instantly changed, the smirk falling from her face as her features contorted with anger. She suddenly flung her hand forward and pushed Chris into the wall behind him, red and orange flames spatting from her hands as she pressed hard against his chest. Chris let out one agonizing scream before he clenched his teeth and held back the screams that had wanted to follow.

"Call me that again and I'll burn you alive, _witch_," The Seer hissed, the flames vanishing from her hand as she removed it from his chest, releasing the boy and letting him fall to the ground, panting madly as he gripped a hand onto his shirt.

Chris let out grunt as he felt the skin where her hand had been continue to tingle in pain. "I'm going to _vanquish _your ass once I'm free of these chains." He hissed from his place on the floor, still gripping hard onto the fabric of his shirt, waiting for the pain in his chest to subside.

The Seer let out a laugh at that, crossing her arms as she watched the Halliwell slowly adjust himself so that he was sitting up against the wall, "Oh, really?" She let out another laugh, a smirk appearing on her lips, "Can't wait to see that."

There was a knock against the hard metal door, causing both Chris and the Seer to turn their attention its way. Chris glared at the demon as she turned and made her way towards the other side of the dungeon, the same hand that had just burned him grabbing the handle of the door and pushing it down with a loud screech. As the door opened, Chris' eyes suddenly fell onto one demon he had never expected the meet: the Source. His grotesque features were much more sickening in real life; the Book made him look better than he really did. This demented demon was the one Ruler of All Evil--the thing his brother had become in the other timeline.

The demon walked into the room, quickly followed by someone Chris thought he'd never see again: Bianca. She strode in, wearing all black leather, eyes instantly falling onto him. They locked eyes for a moment, many emotions swirling behind both sets.

"So," the Source started, catching both Bianca and Chris' attention as he started his way towards Chris. His voice was scratchy and deep, the sound practically causing Chris to let out an involuntary shudder. "This is the younger Halliwell brother."

The Source stood above him, studying him with his black eyes, as Chris stared right up at him, examining the Ruler of All Evil with narrowed eyes. His skin was scarred and scrunched together from burns--much more so on one side of his face than the other. Elaborate tattoos ran up his neck and arms, winding up to the top of his bald head and stopping at his forward with one, elegant symbol. There were different symbols covering his body, some Chris recognized while some were completely foreign to him.

"I can really see the Halliwell in you, _witch_," he spat the last word with such hate and venom behind it. "You look a lot like that Ex-Elder father of yours," he added, crossing his arms as he stared down at the boy, eyes shinning his distaste for the teenager before him, "He's caused me a lot of problems, you know." He paused for a moment, "Actually, your whole _family _has been a big pain in my ass."

"Well," Chris started, staring the Source of All Evil right in the eye, hiding the fear that had seemed to swell up in the pit of his stomach, "hopefully I won't disappoint."

The Source's eyes suddenly narrowed, Chris watching as the anger and hate that had only been seen in his eyes began to crack through and shine on his skin, face contorting in anger. His hand suddenly reached out and grabbed onto the boy's neck. He slammed him hard into the wall, causing Bianca to slightly jump, the worry and protectiveness that had been stinging her growing massively as she watched.

"You forget your_ place, _Halliwell," he hissed, watching with a hard glare as the boy struggled to break free, his hands clawing and prying at the Source's tight grip, "_You_ are the one chained up, _you_ are the one being held by _us_." He banged Chris' back into the wall hard, grip still tight on his neck, "If you ever want to see that family of yours again, I suggest you remember that we hold your fate in our hands." He banged him against the wall once more, "Trust me, witch, I've always wanted to kill a Halliwell."

Chris started nodding his head, showing that he understood, hands still scratching and prying at the Source's grip. Those black eyes stared hard and narrow at him for one more moment before the hand wrapped around his neck was suddenly released and he fell to the floor, coughing and gasping for breath. Well, he had learned that taunting the Source wasn't really a good idea. If he wanted to survive, he'd have to keep his jibes to a minimum while the Source was around. The Seer, though ... well, how could he resist going at it with her?

"Have you found anything out yet?" The Source turned his head towards the Seer, directing his attention and question towards her, thoughts quickly moving past what had just happened between he and the witch.

"Not much," she replied, eyes flashing from the Source to Chris then back again, "I've been at it since the Phoenix brought him to me and all I've seen is useless." She crossed her arms before continuing, "I can't control what he sees, all I can control is how long he sees it."

The Source stared at the Seer for a moment before turning his head to look back towards the shackled witch, "Do you know how to control it?"

"Of course, because I_ totally_ would be letting you see all of this if I could control it." Chris retorted, having trouble resisting the urge to use sarcasm. When he was in situations like these he always seemed to resort to it. It wouldn't help him in the long run and he really knew that--especially by the look the Source was giving him at the moment--but he just couldn't help it!

Thankfully, Chris felt no form of pain or sharp grip around his neck again, and the Source just choose to ignore his jibe and turn his attention back to the Seer.

"Keep working with the witch," The Source instructed her, making his way to the door. He stopped as he gripped the handle, turning to look towards the Seer, "Report to me if you find out anything of use."

The Seer gave a nod in response and the Source's gaze quickly shot towards Chris, eyes narrowing as he stared at the Halliwell, "Remember what I said,_ witch." _

The two just stared at each other, Chris letting his warning sink in. The Source's dark eyes stared right through him, and though Chris wore a mask that shined no fear, he could tell the Source could see right past it. The demon knew of the fear that sat in the pit of his stomach, and that was all he needed. Chris didn't have to say a word; the hidden emotion said it all.

The Source pushed down the handle and opened the heavy door, sliding out through the partial opening before shutting it behind him and vanishing. The fear that Chris felt died down a bit as the Source vanished, and his eyes flashed over to Bianca. The Seer's gaze followed his, and she instantly let her attention fall onto the Phoenix.

"You're here for your payment, correct?" The Seer asked her, causing Bianca's gaze to dart away from Chris and over to the demon. The Seer made her way to the door, not waiting for Bianca to speak the answer she already knew.

"Watch the Halliwell for me," she told Bianca, giving her no choice in the matter, "I'll be back with your payment in a few minutes."

Bianca gave a brief response and a nod as she watched the Seer make her way out of the dungeon, leaving just her and Chris alone. Her eyes instantly fell back onto the teenage witch, studying his features with her brown eyes.

Though it hadn't been too long since she had brought him to the Seer, he looked completely different. He looked completely drained; eyes shinning his exhaustion, along with his sluggish movements. His skin was covered in marks that had not been there before, and there was a giant hole in his shirt, the fabric seared black at its edges. She caught glimpse of a fresh burn mark on his skin where the fabric had once been and she instantly felt sick. _She_ had done this to him; she had brought him here and look what had happened to him in such a short period of time.

"I'm so sorry about this, Chris," she started, making her way towards the younger witch and kneeling down next to him.

"Why are you apologizing?" He retorted, adjusting himself against the hard, cold wall of the dungeon, "You didn't do anything. I just can't resist being a smart ass." His lips curled up into a small smirk, causing Bianca to give off a small smile as well.

"How long have I been down here?" Chris asked, smile fading from his face as he took on a somewhat serious tone. He had no way of keeping track of time. He knew it had to at least be sometime during the next day: he had been through so many visions, it _had _to be the next day. If it wasn't, he'd really start to worry about how long he could survive down here.

"Almost a day," she told him, relieving Chris somewhat. "It was around the early afternoon before I shimmered down here."

"Thank God," Chris let out a sigh of relief as he went to rub at his tired eyes, chains clinking as he moved his arms about. Bianca's eyes instantly went to the cuffs around his wrists, staring hard at the bruising skin. This was all her fault, she had brought him here, she had brought this teenager here and was letting him suffer. She had loved him in another reality, and she still cared for him in some way, still felt that connection, and she knew that you didn't do something like this to someone you loved. She wanted to fix this, she wanted to make things right.

"Your family's looking for you," she told him, the Halliwell's jade eyes snapping up towards her.

"Are you spying on them now too?" He asked her with a small smirk.

"No," she shook her head, "I just know." She paused for a moment, images of Chris' family popping into her mind. The way they had all looked at her yesterday when she took away Chris had been engraved into her mind forever, but no face stood out more than the one of the eldest Halliwell sister. She could remember every detail of it.

"I saw the look on your mother's face," she added, Chris staring straight into her eyes, smirk falling at the mention of his mother. "She'll stop at nothing to get you back."

* * *

The attic of the Manor was more crowded than ever that afternoon. It felt like every member of the family was sitting in the small room, each doing their part in trying to find the one missing member, but no one was working harder than the eldest sister; Piper Halliwell. The worried mother had been up all night, going through the Book, scrying for her son, trying her hardest to locate the boy. She had not been alone in her work though; her husband and oldest son had been right beside her, chugging down cups of coffee as they searched through numerous books from the Magic School library, looking for ways to find and save Chris. The rest of the family had shortly joined the search, every member working their hardest.

Paige was looking through the Book carefully, reading over the pages on the Seer with great attention to detail as she tried to write out a spell on a legal pad, believing that maybe they could summon Chris and bring him back that way. They would try anything to get him back and Paige believed that maybe it would work. She jotted down another few words for the spell as they came to her, flipping through the Book to another page to help her with the spell. She had never been more concentrated in her life. Her nephew was in great danger--that thought looming over the entire room like a foul stench--and she would stop at nothing to help her family bring him back.

The scrying crystal in Phoebe's hand was dangling back and forth, the middle sister letting her attention fall to a book that sat on the table next to her. Leo had brought many books from Magic School on the Seer and the Underworld--some containing very thorough maps of the foreign territory. As the crystal in her hand dangled and her hand clasped Chris' set of keys tightly, she studied the texts, reading them with careful attention to detail, making sure she never missed a word.

Leo suddenly appeared from the doorway to the attic, stacks of books clasped in his hands, Peyton rushing in after him, carrying many more books to add to the growing stacks that were scattered around the room. The Ex-Elder had been working non-stop, reading up all he could on the Seer and the Underworld, trying to find a way to help his youngest son in anyway he could. Since Leo held no magic powers any longer, he had to work his hardest to find out everything he could to help the sisters in finding Chris and let them and Wyatt take care of rescuing him. These were the times when he really wished he still had his Elder status--he would just _love _to vanquish the Seer for taking his son. They all had had too many scares with Chris, and Leo couldn't bare the thought of losing his son. No one was allowed to hurt his boy, and when the sisters finally located the Seer, he hoped--no, _knew_--that Piper would make her suffer for taking their child.

Leo and Peyton placed the books on the ground, the elder man picking up one that was on top of the stack as the young girl rushed to her sister--who stood above a cauldron, throwing and mixing ingredients together as she followed the instructions in a book. The potion was to give Chris back his powers--since the young witch had had his so painfully taken from him. Both Peyton and Prudence had insisted on helping their family find Chris. Though their parents and aunts had insisted that everything would be fine and they could handle it, the twins could not just sit around, waiting for Chris to return. They had to do _something_, and since the two were very good at making potions, they had volunteered to make the potion that would return Chris his powers. _Chris had always been the best at making potions, _both girls had thought to one another, sharing a brief, sad look as they threw in a pinch of thyme.

Leo made his way over to the couch where his wife sat and settled down next to her, opening up the book he had just grabbed as Piper jotted down a note on a legal pad. She studied the last page of the book for a few minutes before shutting it, jotting down another set of notes, and placing it onto the stack of read books next to her before grabbing up a new book and opening it up, ready to read and write. Her eyes suddenly fell onto her oldest son, the boy sitting crisscross on the floor, eyes studying a wrinkled piece of paper.

Wyatt couldn't stop rereading the letter Chris had wrote him, eyes scanning over each neatly scribbled word with such care and attention. After he read the last words, every time he thought the same thing: _Chris, you are such a stupid, freaking _idiot_._ Letting himself get kidnapped like that, just giving in because--as he stated in the letter--it was "the best way" was plain idiotic. Sure, Chris had had a plan, but apparently, like Wyatt had expected, that didn't work out. Now _he _was in charge of saving his brother--again. He was used to it, but he would have just liked to know his brother trusted him just a bit and could have been included him in the first plan as well. He had to stop taking on things on his own, especially something like this. He was in over his head--they were _both _in over their heads. This was the Seer they were talking about, not some dumb demon clan. There were times when Chris needed to ask for help, and this had _definitely_ been one of those times.

... Such a _stupid, freaking, _idiot.

He needed to find that Phoenix, Bianca, the one his parents and aunts seemed to be well acquainted with. They had explained that they had dealt with the Phoenix clan before briefly, but that was all he could get out of them. No more detail other than her name and clan. He didn't need anymore though, because that was all he needed to locate her and he knew she would know where Chris was, and then he could just orb on down there and take care of all this--he was the Twice-Blessed for Pete's sake, it should be a piece of cake. Though Chris had strictly informed him--underlined it not once, but _three_ times--not to act rashly and orb down there without a good plan, he was going to do it anyway. He was going to do things his way, and he was going to get his idiot brother safe and back home as quickly as possible. The whole family--especially his parents--were worried sick. _He _was worried beyond belief. His little brother had gotten himself into quite a situation, and as Wyatt's eyes darted up to his mother's, locking with her tired brown orbs, he wondered if he should break the promise he made to Chris. They all still had no idea why the Seer was after Chris and had no idea what Chris had been hiding from them for so long. He didn't know if he could handle this all on his own, and if his brother really wanted him to think out a good plan, he'd have to understand he couldn't go down to the Underworld without some form of back up ... But Chris would _kill _him if he did that. He wanted it to stay a secret, though Wyatt didn't fully understand why.

From the look in her son's eyes, Piper instantly could tell that whatever was in his hand had something to do with this. He knew something that he wasn't telling them, something that Chris hadn't told them. She could read her sons like a book, and a mother could always tell when her child was hiding something. Chris had started getting much harder to read as of late, but she always figured it out. He had been hiding something for months--they all could tell--and she had a feeling Wyatt knew what that something was.

Piper suddenly shut the book in her lap and Wyatt's eyes instantly darted away from her, quickly stuffing the letter in his pocket before hearing his mother call his name.

"Wyatt," she called, tone calm but authoritative, causing his eyes to snap back up to her, "You're hiding something about Chris, aren't you?"

The rest of the family instantly stopped what they were doing and looked up from their work, all eyes falling onto the oldest Halliwell brother. The teenager looked very guilty in that moment, the kid quickly changing his expression, trying to hide the truth. Phoebe could still feel the guilt radiating off of him, and Paige and Piper caught it still lingering in his eyes. He _did_ know something.

"Wyatt," Leo cut in, staring at his son, "Whatever you know, you need to tell us, _now."_

The older brother hesitated, eyes snapping from his mother to his father to his aunts and cousins, the words that he had spoken to his brother coming to mind. He had promised Chris he wouldn't tell, he had promised. Though he had wanted to tell their parents from the beginning, Chris had made him swear not to.

"Your brother has been kidnapped, Wyatt," Leo continued, causing the boy's eyes to snap from the floor right onto his father's jade eyes--the same set that belonged to his brother, the same eyes that had stared him down and made him swear to keep this a secret. "We need to know everything you know; Chris is in serious trouble."

"His life is in danger, Wyatt," Phoebe added, causing the boy to look her way, "do the right thing." A pause, "You know your brother is in way over his head, I know you understand that. If you want to save him, you need to tell us."

All eyes were glued to Wyatt, and the boy instantly felt the pressure to tell. They were in over their heads and they needed help, it was the truth. Chris' life was in danger, and that scared Wyatt much more than the wrath of his younger brother. Chris could forgive him eventually ... right? He really wanted to keep his promise to his brother, but his fear for the teenager's safety and life were overpowering the need to keep that promise. Chris needed him more than ever now--no, he need the whole family. There was no way they could do this on their own without something terrible happening. Look at what had happened to his brother--who had been doing everything on his own. The truth was--as much as Wyatt hated to say it--the were both just kids, not experienced enough with magic to really handle any of this. Though they were both powerful, they lacked the years of knowledge their parents had.

He caught onto a glimpse of his mother's brown eyes, the stern and serious look she was giving him mixed with worry and fear. His parents both held similar looks--this was killing them more than it was killing him. They needed to know, and Chris could hate him all he wanted after he was home safe and _alive_.

Wyatt opened his mouth to speak, and within seconds, the secret was spilled into the open air, all faces taking on expressions of shock and bemusement. As Wyatt explained all he knew, the little that really was, he had no idea what was running through the minds of the four adults in the room.

It explained so much for all four of them about Chris' odd behavior, but filled them up with sorrow. Chris had been suffering through whatever hells the other reality held on his own, had seen countless deaths and the destruction of a whole different world without any clue as to what it was. He must have been so confused, felt so _alone. _They didn't know where he had found out what it was, but they all felt one similar emotion swelling up inside them: pricking guilt. Guilt because they had known, they had all _known_, but never told him. They had let the boy--who they had all promised would not suffer the same way the old Chris had--go through the same things the other Chris had. He had seen things that the other Chris had fought to change--not just so the world would not have to suffer through its horrors, but so he wouldn't have to either.

Piper, Phoebe, Paige, and Leo had never felt worse in their lives. If they had told him, maybe this wouldn't have ever happened. Maybe Chris wouldn't have hid it from them for so long, maybe it wouldn't have changed the young witch so drastically. They had all agreed to keep it a secret until later in Chris' life. They didn't want to unload all of that onto such a young kid. They were trying to protect him.

And the same thought crossed through all of their minds, flashing through it as the guilt swelled and swelled up inside them:

They had believed they were protecting Chris, but in reality, they hadn't protected him at all.

* * *

Thank you all so much for reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

The next chapter has actually already been finished (don't you all _love_ when I'm on break from school?) but I'm not exactly sure when I'll be able to get it up. School starts again Monday and I don't know when I'll have time to edit the chapter. It will be up sometime during next weekend at the latest, I promise!

Until then, thank you to all who are reading and reviewing, your words encourage me to keep on typing out these chapters!

:)


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas.**

Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter, I really, _really_ appreciate it!

Sorry I didn't get this up by last weekend, I ended up doing a lot of things Saturday and Sunday.

I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

:)

* * *

Piper sat in the sunroom, hands grasping a cup of tea as she stared at the piano in the corner of the room; _Chris'_ piano. She could remember the way Chris' face had lit up when he saw it, his jade eyes going wide as his smile stretched across his face. He had been so _happy._ The boy had quickly rushed to it and began to play, pressing against the keys, producing different notes to form a song he had recently him like that--so happy--had made both Piper and Leo fill up with joy as well. Now, nine years later, that piano still sat in the same spot, but the boy who once played it rigorously barely touched it. That was because of what he had been hiding from them, what he had been forced to suffer through alone because of _them._

Ever since Wyatt's revelation, Piper had been filled with guilt. Both her sisters and Leo had all felt that same emotion, but for some reason, Piper just felt so much worse. He was her baby, her youngest child, and he had been suffering this whole time--probably so confused--because they hadn't told him. She felt like if they had told him, then maybe this wouldn't have happened, maybe her son wouldn't have completely changed because of it. She knew the Chris from nine months ago was gone--though there were still some aspects of him there, he would never be that boy again. After seeing whatever he'd been forced to see for so long, he could not go back to being that teenager again. They should have told him, this was all her fault.

Piper took a sip of her tea, the tired mother trying to keep herself awake. After Wyatt told them about the visions--"extension of their son's premonition power," as Wyatt had told them--she had been working harder than ever, never taking a break until her sisters and husband had forced her to. So, here she sat, staring at her son's piano, thoughts still on the situation and her son. It had been two days now since her baby had been taken away from them again, one day since Wyatt had revealed everything to them. She had no idea where or what her son was going through, and she prayed that her child was okay. From what Wyatt had said--and the letter Chris had wrote to her oldest son--she wanted something from Chris, so until she got it, the sisters all believed Chris' life would be safe.

While she was filled with guilt for hiding everything from Chris, after reading the letter, she was infuriated with the boy. He had planned his own kidnapping, consulted no one, and willingly put himself in harms way. Before reading the letter, she had heard her son beg Bianca to kidnap him, claiming it was the "best way." All of the family had heard him tell the Phoenix that, and they all instantly felt like they had been slapped. It hadn't made any sense, but now, they knew the reason. The letter to Wyatt had insisted that what he did was the "best way" to do it because he was protecting himself and the family from any hurt. Apparently, Bianca had promised to take him without hurting anyone in the process, and her son had decided to play a martyr. Her stupid, _stubborn _son. He should have told them all from the beginning, he was playing with his life and he was just too young to fully grasp that. He was acting recklessly--like most teenagers do--and he didn't understand that acting like that would get him killed. She was worried sick about her Peanut.

"Hey," Leo's soothing voice rang through her ears as a soft, comforting touch grazed her shoulder. Her eyes shot up to meet her husband's, seeing the comforting smile that graced his features as he plopped down next to her, "Look what I found in the attic." He pulled out an old, worn brown teddy bear, and a small smile instantly grew on Piper's features as she recognized it. It was Panda Bear, Chris' teddy bear.

She placed her mug of tea down onto the table next to her and took the bear from Leo's hand, still smiling.

"It was sitting on top of one of the boxes in the attic," Leo explained with smile as he wrapped an arm around his wife, "Chris must have left on top of the box when he was cleaning out the attic. Seems he couldn't part with it."

Piper studied the old bear, noticing every tear in the fabric, every place where she had stitched up a hole for her son. That teddy bear used to go everywhere with the young boy, dragged by one of its limp arms, trailing behind the young toddler as he walked, other hand either gripping her own or his father's.

"He loved this bear so much," Piper reminded her husband as she placed the small bear on her lap, watching as it sagged to one side.

Leo nodded in agreement, both parents smiling as they stared at the bear, memories of their son as a young boy flooding back in. They remembered all the times they took him to the park, the times when they first learned of his powers, that bright smile that always seemed to stretch across his features. He could brighten up any one of the family members moods with one of those smiles.

Piper stared at the old bear for a moment, thoughts of her teenage son coming to her head, her trip down memory lane and away from all that was happening around them coming to an abrupt and sad ending.

"Do you think we should have told him?" Piper asked her husband, her eyes traveling to meet his.

Leo stared at her for a moment, contemplating his answer. "I don't know," He replied, pulling his wife closer to him with a squeeze of his arm, thoughts falling onto his missing son. "I still can't believe this is all happening," Leo admitted, staring down at the old teddy bear that sat in Piper's lap, "I can't believe he's been going through all of this for so long. I can't believe he's been _hiding _this for so long." He was still astonished at how their son had been able to pull this off. Hiding something this big for so long was very challenging.

"He must have learned how to keep a secret from the other Chris," Piper responded, giving out a laugh as she thought of the many things the other Chris kept secret from them, including his own identity. Her Chris had taken on so many of the other Chris' traits, and as each day passed she really started to see the old Chris in her sixteen-year-old son.

"There were so many signs, Leo," she added, "so many. He changed so much, we saw him change in front of our very own eyes, but we just thought he was acting out." They were his parents, they should have been able to see this was happening, it was their job to find out what was wrong with their children, to fix everything that was causing them pain and make it right. "How did we not see this?"

"We never expected it would happen, Piper." Leo explained, "I still don't _understand _how it happened." A pause, "I've been going through so many different books on time travel and premonitions but I can't find any explanation for this. There's never been a case like this before." He had spent all night reading and taking notes, trying to find some explanation. He had some theories that he had to look into, but he really didn't know if they would lead anyway. He would keep looking, keep coming up with theories until he found the right one. He needed to know why this was happening so he could help his son get through it. He was confused about it and he wasn't even seeing it, so he couldn't imagine how confused his youngest son had been.

Piper grabbed up the teddy bear that sat on her lap, staring at the old toy once again, thoughts going back to its owner. Her youngest son, the one that would always be her baby, no matter what age he was. "Why didn't he want to tell us?" She asked her husband, thoughts flying around her son and his behavior the last few months. "Why did he hide all of this from us?"

"I really don't know." Leo responded with a shrug. "We'll just have to wait till we find him to ask him that." The Ex-Elder instantly caught onto his wife's expression changing, molding into one that shined all her worries and fears about the whole situation. "We _will _find him, Piper, I promise." He told his wife, watching as she placed the small teddy bear close to her chest, the old toy's head drooping down. He squeezed her tighter and planted a kiss on her forehead, eyes falling back onto Chris' Panda Bear, "He's going to be okay; he's a strong boy." A pause, Leo's lips curling into a smile as he added, "He takes after his mother."

There was a sudden rush of footsteps trampling down the stairs and heading towards them, causing both Leo and Piper to look towards the sound, their eyes catching onto Paige as she appeared in the room, both hands placing themselves on opposite sides of the doorframe, "Uh, you guys need to come up to the attic, like _now." _She exclaimed, causing both Leo and Piper to stand up quickly--Piper dropping Chris' old teddy bear onto the couch--and start to follow Paige up the stairs, each shinning their worry on their faces.

"Paige," Piper started as they rushed up the stairs, following the youngest Charmed sister as she swiftly turned and started up the attic stairs, "What's going on?"

"Where the hell did you take my brother?!" Wyatt's scream quickly filled up the staircase, causing both Leo and Piper to pick up their pace, having a good idea who it was that their son was yelling at.

The three made it into the attic, Paige's expression quickly changing to one of hate--matching the rest of the room's occupants--as her eyes landed straight on the woman Wyatt was threatening. Piper's eyes instantly fell onto the familiar young woman, rage suddenly filling up inside her as she stared at the witch who had took her child away from her. Her son looked like he was about ready to blow her up, his hands raised and ready as he stared at the woman with narrowed eyes. She praised her son for that, because as she made her way up to the woman--whose hands were raised up in front of her--she readied herself to blow up the bitch.

Leo's eyes were narrowed at the Phoenix, hate instantly filling him up. This woman had stolen his son away from him, and even though his son had seemed to go along with it, it still didn't excuse her for taking him. She had done it once before, hurt his son when he came back in time to try to stop Wyatt from turning, and seeing her again just filled him with a new sense of rage he never felt was even possible inside him.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here," Piper told her with narrowed eyes, hate radiating off her more than ever. Piper wanted nothing more than to see this woman suffer for taking her son and going along with his stupid plan.

"I know you all must hate me for what I did," she started, keeping her hands raised up to assure them that she meant no harm, "But I've come here to help you save Chris."

"Starting to feel a bit guilty now, are we?" Paige responded, crossing her arms as she stared at the brown-haired Phoenix, expression still shining her hate for the young woman.

"I did what Chris asked me to do," she defended, sending a glare Paige's way, "We both agreed it was the best way." She paused, letting her expression fall onto the Matriarch of the Halliwell family, "He didn't want to see any of you hurt, and he knew that it didn't matter how much he tried to fight it, the Seer would eventually get her way and he _would _be taken."

"What did you do to him?" Piper asked, eyes still narrowed and arms still raised, ready to attack her if need be.

"I didn't do anything to him, I swear," she told the eldest sister, eyes locked with the angry woman's, "I saw him yesterday, and I can assure you he's alive--not exactly _well_, but doing good, given the circumstances."

"Why didn't the spell work?" Wyatt asked, causing Bianca's eyes to snap towards him. In the letter, Chris had informed him of the spell he wrote and how he was pretty sure it would work, but if Chris wasn't back by now, then that definitely meant the spell hadn't done its job.

"He didn't get to use it," she replied, "I had to take it away from him." Now, she really felt bad about doing that, but she knew she did it for the right reasons. Before Wyatt could get out his harsh words of protest and hate, Bianca went on, "If he had kept that spell and Seer had found it, he would have ended up extremely hurt. She would not have stood for that, and if she had known I let him keep it, she would have killed me _and _my family." She paused, eyes scanning over everyone in the room, taking in every one of their hate-filled glares. She deserved them, she did, but she came to fix what she had done. "I was just trying to protect him."

"Do you know where he is?" Phoebe's voice suddenly cut in, causing Bianca's eyes to fall onto the middle sister. She was willing to give Bianca a chance because she could feel the one thing the rest of the room couldn't. The Phoenix cared for Chris, she really did. The other Bianca was in there, and her love for the other Chris still lingered in this Bianca, and she could trust her because of that single feeling.

Bianca nodded her head and lowered her arms slightly, hoping that the narrowed eyes and hate-filled glances would settle and they would allow her to help, "And I can help make a potion to weaken the Seer, allowing you to vanquish her." The Phoenix's eyes travelled to the eldest Halliwell sister, knowing full well that her word would determine what would happen.

"She being sincere, Piper," Phoebe spoke up, catching the attention of the rest of the room's occupants, "She really wants to help." Phoebe's eyes traveled back to Bianca, feeling every hidden emotions radiating off of her, "We can trust her."

Piper's eyes fell back onto the witch, studying the Phoenix once again with a careful eye. After a few seconds, she lowered her hands--never taking her eyes off of Bianca--and spoke up, "Alright. Let's get to work then."

* * *

_Chris made his way through the crowds of people and demons walking the streets, keeping his face hidden from any of the scanning probs and uniformed demons that made up Wyatt's ranks. The sixteen-year-old was wandering through the less destroyed part of the city, where the surviving members of society tried to live a normal life under the rule of their Lord Wyatt. Propaganda was posted up on walls and flashed on giant television screens, advertising that _'Resistance Equals Death' _and warned all that _'You Are _Always_ Being Watched.' _His brother had become quite the master at using scare-tactics_ _to keep his subjects in check._

_Chris had been on the run again for about a month now after escaping his last imprisonment by his brother. He was learning quickly ways to avoid kidnapping, making up his own set of strict rules to follow to make sure he did not end up in the hands of Wyatt. He lived like a vagabond: no real home, always on the move. He never spent the night in the same place, always moved to different areas of the city. He had no belongings other than the clothes on his back, had no friends, no connections. He had to be alone in order to keep hidden. His name was too recognizable, even his face could sometimes cause problems. He couldn't change the way he looked though, so whenever he was around crowds of people and uniformed demons and witches, he kept his hood up. He never let them get a good glimpse at him, because, if they did, Lord Wyatt would be bound to make an appearance._

_He was Wyatt's Most Wanted. Topped the list since the first day of the teenager's rule._

_Chris pushed his way through the crowds, trying to look as casual as he could, making sure to not alert any of the demons or uniformed men. No one had noticed his presence; he blended in with the crowd perfectly._

_Then he heard the call._

"_Chris," the voice belonged to the one person who had never expected to see, the one person who he had yelled at and orbed out on the last time he had seen him. _

_He decided to ignore it, frustration and worry growing as he continued to walk, feeling the man's presence still behind him. How had he found him? He had been blocking both he and Wyatt from sensing him. It didn't make sense._

"_Chris, stop." The voice called to him again, this time a hand grasped at his sleeve along with it, trying to get him to halt._

_He quickly turned and faced the man in the crowd, people filtering by him on both sides, squeezing their way past as he stared at the man who was considered to be his father._

"_Chris--"_

"_We can't talk here," Chris told the man, turning around and grabbing him by the sleeve, a bit peeved that his dad had even come to see him in the first place. "Follow me." He instructed Leo, not trying at all to hide his irritation at the Elder's sudden appearance._

_He led him father through the crowds of people, slipping out of the massive group and into an empty back street, leading his father past many posters filled with propaganda and pictures of Lord Wyatt himself, harsh eyes staring out at them. He brought his father to the back end of the alley, where no posters were near and no probs could hear or see them speaking before he turned to face the man again, taking off his hood as he did so before crossing his arms._

"_How did you find me?" He asked his father with a glare filled with his true feelings towards the man._

"_Just because you blocked me, Chris, doesn't mean that I'm incapable of finding you," his father retorted, staring at his son with eyes that shined nothing but worry for him, "I've been looking for you for days, the good, old-fashioned way."_

"_Why?" Chris inquired, eyes flashing off to the entrance of the alley far in front of them, making sure no one had entered, "You know it's dangerous for you to be down here. All of the Elders are wanted by Wyatt; he could _kill _you if he finds you here."_

"_I thought you hated me, Chris," Leo responded, crossing his arms, "Why are you so concerned now?"_

"_Just because I don't like you very much doesn't mean I want you to _die." _Chris retorted in defense. It was the truth. He didn't want to see Wyatt kill anymore of his family, even if it was the one member he hated more than anything._

"_Why are you here?" Chris asked, eyes flashing back over to the entrance of the alleyway, checking once again to make sure no one or no prob had made it's way in. He hated living like this: always in constant fear, always watching his back. He had to do it though, one false move and he would end up right back with Wyatt._

"_I heard you escaped Wyatt's prison again," he told the boy, "I wanted to make sure you were alright." Chris looked peeved at that, and Leo's eyes narrowed in annoyance as he added, "You are my _son_, Chris, and--believe it or not--I _do_ care about you."_

_Chris found that last statement laughable, and the boy couldn't help but roll his eyes at it. "Well," he started, pulling his hood over his head, "you can see that I'm fine and breathing, so it seems that your mission is complete." He paused, before adding, "Nice seeing you again, Leo."_

_He started his way up the alley, stuffing his hands in his pockets, praying that his father would not come after him. The tug at his arm and the call of his name proved otherwise though, and Chris let out a sigh as he turned to face his father one more time._

"_Chris," he started, receiving an annoyed glare from his son, "Look at yourself. Look at how your _living._" Chris narrowed his eyes a bit more, crossing his arms, "I want to help you, Chris--"_

"_Well, I never _asked _for your help, did I, _dad_?" Chris retorted, cutting him off harshly. He didn't need his father's help, he didn't need to owe him or the Elder's anything. He knew what his dad was trying to do, the other Elders had done it before. They tried to offer him 'help,' but in exchange he knew he would have to do something for them. They wanted something from him, but it didn't know what. He had a feeling that they wanted to use him to get Wyatt to let them be, and the only way they could do that was by handing him right over to his brother. He really hoped his father wasn't involved in this type of plan, but he didn't doubt that the man would be._

"_Stop being so _stubborn_, Chris," Leo told the boy, eyes narrowed, "I'm trying to help you, I'm trying to do the right thing for you. I'm trying to be a good father, like your mother--"_

"_No!" Chris yelled, no longer able to keep his rage inside, "You can not bring her into to this." He hissed at his father, "Why do you always bring her into everything?!" He raised his hands up, curling them up into fists as he lowered them._

"_I can't talk to you anymore," Chris told his father, "I'm not coming with you because I don't trust you." Chris backed away from his father, "You Elders want Wyatt off your back, and you know that I'm the best way to get that to happen."_

_Leo's eyes went wide at that, and Chris instantly saw guilt begin to creep out into his expression, eyes telling Chris everything._

"_Oh my God," He exclaimed as he backed up, actually shocked that his father had really been involved, "You were really going to just give me to him, weren't you?"_

"_Chris," Leo started, placing his hand up to try to stop the boy from going any further, "I'm so sorry. I was doing what was best for the Greater Good. I knew you could get away, you _always _get away--"_

"_I'm your _son_, Leo." Chris replied, voice tinged with anger, jade eyes narrowing, "How could you do that to me?"_

"_Chris, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Leo repeated, watching as his son backed away from him, eyes showing disgust, hate, and shock--all emotions centered towards him, "I love you so much, Chris. You know I love you."_

"_Never come looking for me again." Chris hissed at his father, pointing at him with a shaking finger, "Tell the rest of the Elders to leave me alone." _

_Chris turned his back to his father and started his way through the alley, walking as fast as he could to get away from his father. He was so anger at his father, so _angry. _But he was more angry at himself than his father. He was enraged with himself for actually letting himself be hurt like he was then, hurt like all the times he was as a child when his father let him down. There was this pain in his chest and tears swelling up behind his eyes. He'd force those back, because he didn't cry. He told himself he would never cry over his father again after his eighth birthday. He was used to being disappointed, but this just hurt so much worse than it used to._

"_Chris!" His father's voice called after him, fading as he walked, "Chris!"_

Then there was laughing, laughing, _sickening_ laughing.

Chris looked up and spotted the Seer standing above him, laughing hysterically as she held her torso. She was laughing at him, she was laughing at what they had just seen. Chris hadn't been so sure they were out of it, but when he spotted the Seer, laughing at him like a maniac, he knew which reality he was in.

"Oh," she started up between laughs, "you and your daddy issues."

Chris glared up at her weakly, wishing desperately that he could throw her into the wall across the dungeon. After two days of this crap--of this bitch forcing him through so much so fast that he was starting to lose touch with what was real and what wasn't--the laughing had just really got to him. It wasn't funny that his father was a bastard--his other father, not his own ... right? ... Yes, his other father; it was his other father ...

"It amuses me so much," she exclaimed after her laughing had settled, letting out a few more giggles before she was done completely.

She caught onto Chris' glare and could tell the boy was peeved at her.

"Aw," she teased, kneeling down slightly in front of the boy, "Did I hit a nerve?"

Chris' arms suddenly thrust forward, ready to grab the demon, but felt the hard tug of the metal shackles against his red wrists, preventing him from doing what he wished he could. To be honest, he probably was too tired to strangle her as he had planned to do since he lacked his powers. He hadn't slept in a while and right then he was _really _confused and exhausted beyond belief. She was getting to him faster than he had thought she would, but being forced into so many visions in such a short time could do that to you, he guessed.

Seeing all of these visions without seeing what the Seer wanted did start to make him speculate though. She believed there was something that caused his brother to just snap and go completely psycho on them. After seeing so many visions, he was beginning to doubt that. He had seen the Seer contemplating over it a few times during one of their breaks, sitting on the other side of the room, jotting things down, then stopping when a doubtful expression creased her features. She'd look towards him, then quickly would go back to jotting things down.

Chris was starting to believe that there was no trigger, that his brother had always had this inside him. He had a theory that that version of his brother--which was not _his_ brother ... no, not _his_ brother--had been destined to turn evil, and there was no event that just caused him to turn his back on good.

"As much as I _love _to play these games with you--"

"_I'm starting to get sick of these games, Christopher_."

Wyatt's voice was ringing through his head now, and his older brother had said something like that before, using the same tone the Seer was using with him now. Chris remembered the words, but he couldn't remember for the life of him which Wyatt had said it. Good Wyatt or Bad Wyatt? ... It was Bad Wyatt, yes, Lord Wyatt. That wasn't _his _Wyatt--

"Are you even listening to me, _witch_?" she asked, causing Chris to snap his gaze back up to her, not even realizing he had lost himself in thought until she had yelled that at him.

"Can I ask you something?" Chris asked her, the Seer's eyes instantly narrowing at the question.

"No."

"Well, I'm going to ask it anyway." He told her, deciding to go on, "The thing you want to see--the event that you believed made my brother 'snap'--What if it doesn't exist?" He noticed her expression take on much more anger, and Chris couldn't help but smirk at that. If he couldn't call her a bitch to her face than this would do. "What if it was just something that that Wyatt had always had inside him? Something that was there since he was little?"

She looked so mad at him, and Chris' smirk grew and grew. She noticed this and looked as if she wanted to throw him against the wall.

"Face it," he told her with a wide smirk, crossing his arms, "You're too _late."_

She suddenly grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him up, shackles stopping her at a certain point, "You better pray, little witch, that what you just said isn't the truth," She stared straight into his eyes, face inches away from his, "Because, if I am too late, then you're already _dead._"

* * *

Thanks to all who read and hopefully reviewed!

I have no clue when I will get the next chapter up, due to the fact that I have to write my research paper this weekend. I can tell you that after Wednesday next week (that's the due date) I will be back to writing this story and I will post the next chapter (which I just finished!) as soon as possible.

Here's a _very_ brief summary of it for you all: The Sisters and Wyatt go to save Chris and Chris finds out that Wyatt told them about the visions.

Thanks again for reading and please,_ please_, review!

:)


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, as usual!**

Thank you all so much for the reviews last chapter, I appreciate them all!

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

:)

* * *

The plan was set and the potions were brewed. Bianca had proven to be a good aid, and with the location of Chris and the potion that would weaken the Seer, they were all ready to go. The Charmed Sisters and Wyatt were the four that were going to put the plan to action, each having their own role to play. They all stood in the attic, the rest of the family scattered about the room, ready to wait for the outcome of the plan, hoping it would be good.

Piper held one of the potions in her hand--the potion that would give her son back his powers. She was going to be the one to give him the potion and keep him safe until the Seer was vanquished. Depending on his condition, she would either keep him there or have him immediately orb them back to the Manor. Then they would tend to his wounds once Paige and Wyatt returned, either one of them healing him. After that, she would hug him, hold him close to her and realize that he was safe yet again. Following her hug, she would berate him for being such an idiot and letting himself be kidnapped. She'd also yell at him for keeping everything a secret from them, and then, after her anger had diminished, she would hug him again.

Phoebe, Paige, and Wyatt were all in charge of taking care of the Seer. Both sisters each had a potion in their possession--Paige held the one that would weaken the Seer while Phoebe held a potion that they believed would vanquish the Seer. If the vanquishing potion didn't work, they believed that Wyatt could take care of her with his own powers.

That was Wyatt's role; to fight off the Seer. He was the strongest witch in the family, and with his abundance of strong active powers, they believed that he could take down the Seer with ease. The potion would be the quickest way, but if it didn't work they all had assurance that he could take care of it. The Twice-Blessed was rather eager and ready for the fight. He'd been wanting to hurt the Seer since he first heard that she was involved. She had put his brother in coma, and now had kidnapped him. Who knows what she's been doing to him since his arrival. Whatever she had done to him would pale in comparison to how Wyatt would make her suffer. He hoped the potion didn't work--that would be less painful for her, and Wyatt wanted her to feel as much pain as possible during her vanquishing. Wyatt had an anthame in the belt loop of his pants, the weapon he planned to stab straight into her heart once he was sure she had suffered enough.

"I'll shimmer you four down to where Chris is," Bianca told them, standing in front of the four witches, arms crossed over her chest, "but I can't go with you. If anyone even suspects that I'm helping you find Chris the Source himself could come after me and my family."

"We understand," Phoebe nodded. The young woman was practically risking her life and her own family to try to help them save Chris, and she, along with the rest of the family, were truly grateful for what she had done to help. Without Bianca, it would have taken them much longer to locate Chris, which would have kept Chris in harm's way for even longer than the sisters would like it.

As Phoebe studied the Phoenix, she could still feel the same emotions she had felt the day prior radiating off her. She was worried for Chris, she cared for him, and though this Bianca wasn't in love with Chris, she still had those lingering feelings left behind by the other Bianca. Phoebe had no idea how those emotions still lingered inside her, they were there, and she could feel them as strong as any other emotion. She was thankful for them though, because she knew that if Bianca had none of those feelings lingering inside her, then Chris would have been much worse.

"Well, then," Paige started, grabbing everyone's attention, "shall we get Operation: Save James Dean underway?" She shrugged her shoulders, holding up the potion in her hands as she gave them a small smile. Even when her nephew wasn't there, she couldn't resist a chance to jibe him. The other Chris and her had been the same way during his stay in the past, and that was one thing she had always enjoyed. Teasing Chris was just her favorite past time, and the sixteen-year-old witch sometimes taunted her right back ... she really missed that, and it had only been three days!

Piper rolled her eyes at her younger sister's joke and gave a nod in response, agreeing that they should begin the rescue mission. The sooner her son was in her sights, the safer he'd be.

The Matriarch of the Halliwell family let her eyes fall onto the Phoenix that stood in front of them, staring at the woman who had once been her son's true love. It was weird thinking that, given in reality that her son was sixteen, but they were the Halliwell's; nothing was normal for them. The other Chris had loved this woman--who had oddly enough tried to kidnap him on two different occasions--and somehow, she had ended up in his life once again.

"Thank you," she finally spoke up after a few seconds of staring at the witch.

Bianca's features softened and a gentle smile grew across her face. She gave a simple nod in response before uncrossing her arms and looking at all four of the Halliwell's who she would be shimmering down to the Underworld.

"Grab onto each other," she instructed, taking a few steps towards them as they all obeyed, the sisters and the Twice-Blessed placing a hand onto one another. Bianca stepped up to Wyatt, the two locking eyes as she readied herself to shimmer the four down to the Underworld.

"Good luck," she told them. And with a motion of her arm, the four witches figures began to distort, the attic they had been standing in suddenly disappearing and instantly turning into a much more darker atmosphere. When they settled and spotted where they were, a voice from behind exclaimed:

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

The sisters and Wyatt swiftly turned on their heels, watching as the Seer stared right at them, her dark eyes narrowed as her hand gripped at a brunette boy's head, the teenager's jade eyes glazed over with an odd shining white color, the kid gripping hard onto the Seer's arm, trying to pry her off weakly.

"Get your _hand_ off my _son_!" Piper hissed at the demon. Her blood had instantly began to boil and her expression had changed to one of complete disgust and rage as she stared at the demon--the demon who had a hand on her son, who was_ hurting_ her son.

The demon released her hand from Chris' head--a sadistic smirk gracing her features--and the white in the teenager's eyes instantly faded, letting the jade color of his iris show once again. The boy's eyes instantly fell onto his family, jumping from Piper to Paige, then Phoebe, and, finally, landing on Wyatt. He was so thankful to be seeing them, and each member of the family could see hints of relief shining on his face.

"I wasn't expecting you so soon," she said, taking a few steps towards them, arms crossed. The Charmed Ones and Wyatt all stared at the witch with narrowed eyes, expressions filled with rage and hate, each ready to fight at any second.

The Seer turned her head and looked back towards Chris, a mock pout falling on her features, "And we were just starting to have some fun."

Chris stared right back at her, jade eyes radiating hate and rage. He was exhausted and practically drained, but the idea of freedom and payback had woken him right up. He tugged at the chains on his wrists, not caring if it wouldn't get him anywhere. She had been torturing him for so long now, she had put him in a coma, and he was finally going to be able to end this all. He'd finally be rid of the Seer.

"Don't worry, kid," she added, turning her gaze back to the four witches that stood in front of her as she raised her arms, "After I take care of this, the fun will _really_ begin."

Piper suddenly raised her fists, rage filling her expression, and opened them swiftly, going to blow up the demon. The Seer had quickly shimmered out, only to reappear seconds later behind the four of them, fire raging in her hands.

"Nice try," she taunted from behind Phoebe, causing the middle sister to instantly swirl around, bringing her leg up as she turned and kicking her foot straight into the Seer's gut, arms raised and curled into fists, ready to fight. As the demon stumbled back, caught off guard by Phoebe's kick, the three remaining Halliwells darted off in different directions. Wyatt and Paige rushed towards Phoebe, each going to a different side of the Seer, surrounding her as Paige pulled out the potion that would weaken the Seer, readying herself to throw it.

Piper rushed away from the action and over to her youngest son, kneeling down to his side as she reached him, hands digging in her pockets as she asked, "Are you okay"

"Yeah," Chris replied short and simple, nodding his head as he watched his mother dig through her pocket until she pulled out her fist, a vial in her hand. Her eyes instantly went to the chains around his wrists as Chris' eyes darted over towards his aunts and brother, watching the fight progress. Piper kept her eyes on the chains, thinking of a way to break him free. She suddenly raised her hands up in an attempt to blow open the chains and was thankful when she heard the sound of shattered metal falling to the ground

Chris' attention darted back to his newly freed wrist for a moment, staring down at the red, bruised skin before he looked back over towards his aunts and brother, fully engaged in the fight again. Even though Chris was exhausted, watching his family fight had brought him right back to life. He was ready to be free of these chains and charge right to the Seer and vanquish her. The demon had caused him so much suffering and so much pain and _he_ was the one that was going to vanquish her.

When all the chains had finally been blown up and shattered to the ground, Piper called her son's name, "Chris," her fingers rested on his cheek, palm cupping his chin as she gently pulled his gaze towards her, each injury on his skin practically illuminated to her. His eyes met hers as she placed the potion in his hand, Chris' instantly knowing what it was for. He gulped it down quickly as Piper examined him, her worry for her son growing as well as her anger towards the Seer. The burn on his chest had brought her anger to a boiling point and her hands tingled with the sensation to go and blow up the Seer over and over until she was finally gone. Nobody was allowed to hurt her child, _nobody_.

Chris suddenly pushed himself up from the ground, hands gripping onto the wall for support as he tried to balance himself. His narrowed eyes were filled with rage and his gaze was straight on the Seer. His aunt had thrown a potion at her and as the weird glow around the Seer vanished, the demon's anger grew as well. She tried to shimmer as Wyatt threw an energy ball her way, but failed and was hit. She let out a hiss of pain and Chris suddenly realized what the potion had done. Her powers were gone, rendering her nothing but a weak excuse for a demon.

Chris started his way towards the fight, his mother's hands instantly grabbing onto his arm, trying to pry him back. After a few tugs he managed to pry his arm free and swung it fiercely, sparks of electricity flying from his hands and right towards the Seer as he telekinetically threw her back against a wall. His two aunts and brother suddenly turned wide eyes towards him and Phoebe could instantly feel the rage that was swelling inside of her younger nephew.

With another motion of his hand, the Seer was pulled up from the ground and he squeezed his hand into a tight fist, causing the Seer to grip at her neck as she struggled to breath. Chris took a few slow steps toward her, his body trying its hardest to stay standing as he brought the Seer towards him.

"Looks like the fun's _really_ starting now." He hissed at her, using his free hand to send out sparks of electricity her way, causing her body to convolute in pain as she let out a muffled and pained scream. Chris smirked and held out his hand, "Anthame."

Wyatt instantly looked down to his hand, spotting the anthame disappear in a swirl of blue and white, reappearing within seconds in his younger brother's open hand.

Chris gripped the dagger's handle tight in his hand as he stared straight into the Seer's eyes, both pairs raging with an intense hate and anger. Chris brought the dagger up towards her chest, hand gripping it tightly as he spoke, "Freaking _bitch._" He thrust the dagger into her chest, sparks of electricity flying from his gripped hand and into her body, causing her once narrowed eyes to widen with fear and pain as she felt the painful bolts of electricity for a few more seconds before she was consumed in flames, disappearing from the scene as Chris lowered his hands and dropped the anthame on the floor. He was panting from the exertion of energy and the feeling that had once filled him seconds ago was gone and his exhaustion was back.

Paige looked from Chris to Phoebe, both sharing wide-eyed expression as Paige spoke the words that were on everyone's minds, "Holy_ shit_."

Within seconds, Chris was on the floor, hand gripping hard onto his head, causing all four Halliwells surrounding him to become worried and instantly take action.

"Wyatt!" Piper called as she rushed over to Chris, indicating to her older son that he needed to orb them out of there.

Wyatt rushed over and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder as Paige grabbed onto Phoebe, both orbing out within seconds of each other.

* * *

Chris didn't like everyone staring at him. The whole family--every cousin, uncle, and aunt--were watching as Wyatt healed him with a look of relief. They were all crowded up in the attic, Chris sitting on the old couch, head rested back against it as he stared up between his fingers. Uncles and cousins chimed in every few minutes, asking him questions that he just ignored. There was so many voices, _so many._

"_What I did was for the best Chris ... Join me, Chris ... I'm tired of playing these games, Chris." _

Wyatt kept talking and talking, but it wasn't his Wyatt, it was the other Wyatt. He'd been going on for what felt like hours and Chris was about ready to scream. There were voices in his head and voices that were real, but he couldn't concentrate on either one of them.

Chris let his hand fall to the couch and he turned his head to look towards his brother, watching as he finished healing the last of his wounds. His brother looked up towards his mother and father, declaring he was done, before he stood up.

His mother stared at him, eyes radiating relief, before she kneeled down and wrapped her arms around him tight. Chris didn't hug her back, but let his head rest between her neck and shoulder as she held him as tight as she could. When the hug was finally over and his mother released him, her expression swiftly changed and Chris could feel a lecture coming.

She suddenly smacked him hard on his arm, causing Chris' arm to flinch towards him.

"Christopher Perry Halliwell, what the _hell _were you thinking?!" She asked her son, voice loud and stern, anger radiating from her eyes and tone.

Chris' eyes narrowed at this and he crossed his arms, retort ready, "I was thinking that I didn't need my _mommy_ to come and save my ass!" He told her, realizing how stupid any defense he was going to try to use was going sound, considering his original plan did not work at all, "I would have been fine without your help."

"Oh yes," Paige cut in, crossing her arms and staring at her nephew in disbelief, "by the way things looked when we got there, you sure looked like you were doing _fine_." Chris' glare narrowed as he stared at her, irritated by her sudden comment.

"I can take care of myself!" He defended, "If my plan would have worked out, I would have been fine."

"You are just a kid, Chris!" Piper declared, anger boiling as she stared at her defiant child, "You do need _mommy_ to save you when one of the strongest demons around comes after you!"

Chris was starting to feel a little embarrassed due to the fact the whole family was watching his mother berate him and watching as he failed at making a valid argument. Maybe what his mother was saying was true--he had needed help, and he had been an idiot to try to take this on with no one to back him up--but he felt like doing things alone; it kept his secret safer.

"You were in way over your head, Chris!" Piper went on, staring down at him, waiting for some sort of reply or retort. When Chris didn't say anything, the boy not really knowing how to argue it anymore, his mother let out a sigh and her tone softened, "Why didn't you tell us about this Chris?" She paused, watching as her son kept his eyes towards the ground, "About everything? About the Seer, what you've been seeing--"

"Wait, what?!" Chris' eyes suddenly darted up, wide and surprised as he went over the last thing his mother had said in his mind again. "You know?!"

One look from his mother, aunts, and father told him the answer he wasn't hoping for. Chris' eyes darted towards his brother, suddenly narrowing as he stared at the older Halliwell.

"What the hell, Wyatt?!" Chris yelled, raising his arms in disbelief, "You promised you wouldn't say anything!"

"The Seer had kidnapped you!" Wyatt started up, defending his actions, "We were both in over our heads and you knew it! We needed help, and they needed to know."

"I knew I couldn't trust you, Wyatt!" Chris retorted back towards his brother, feeling a very strong sting of betrayal. Wyatt had promised him, he _swore_, but he still told. By telling them, he was making things so much worse. For some reason, he felt so guilty for having these visions, for seeing these things. If they ever found out about what he saw, then it would hurt them all more than he could imagine. He wasn't going to tell them to protect them, but Wyatt had screwed that over. Now they were going to start asking, but Chris was _not_ going to start telling.

"Wyatt," Piper interrupted, causing both brothers to look towards their mother, "You can bicker with your brother all you want later, but I'm not done with him yet."

"You can't even say anything,_ mom." _Chris spat back, rage-filled eyes flashing towards his mother and darting quickly to his father, noticing as the man opened his mouth to speak, "You too, _Leo_." He spoke his father's name with such hate that Leo felt a hard sting at his heart.

"None of you can say anything because you all know about him and didn't tell me!" Chris stood up from his seat, temper flaring, as his eyes darted from his parents to his aunts, catching the guilty looks that stretched across their features.

"Chris, how did you--"

"Shut up, mom!" He yelled at her, turning his narrowed eyes towards her, "You don't get to talk right now! There's no way you can defend what you did, because it was wrong!"

"Chris," Leo started, trying to explain the best he could, "we didn't know how to tell you, it was all very complicated--"

"That doesn't matter, because I had a right to know!" Chris cut off his father, staring at him with such hate that Leo could barely even stand looking at his son.

"_He'll never be there for you Chris," A young Wyatt told him, "Dad can't change."_

"_Yes he can!" Chris retorted, voice young and small._

"_You're too young and naive, Chris. He'll never change, what's done is done, and dad will always be like this." Wyatt paused for a moment, before adding, "But I'll always be here for you, Chris, and so will mom."_

His head suddenly started to pulsate and his anger suddenly fell, a worn and tired look falling on his features. "I don't feel like fighting with you right now," He told them as he started to push his way past them, making his way through his cousins and out of the room, "I'm going to bed."

He made his way out of the attic and quickly down the stairs, hand grabbing onto his head as he made it down to the hallway and started to his room, listening to the voices that seemed to go on endlessly inside his mind.

"_I'm so sorry, buddy," Leo's voice started up, soft and comforting, "I got stuck Up There for a meeting, but I promise I'll make this up to you."_

"_I did this all for _you_, Christopher! This world is ours!" Wyatt screamed with a hint of anger. _

Chris pushed open the door to his room and slammed it shut, leaning back against the wood as he gripped his head, trying to block out the voices. Things had gotten so much worse and these voices were starting to really confuse him.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up ..." He started, whispering his new mantra over, clinging at his head as he listened to the bits and pieces of conversations; phrases that were sometimes screamed with anger or filled with joy. There was the soft voice of his mother, the authoritative scream of his brother, a sarcastic jibe from Aunt Paige, and then silence.

He looked up at his room and sighed in relief as the talking finally stopped. His eyes shot to his bed, instantly landing on the small, old stuffed bear that sat on top of his comforter. It's head sagged to the side, it's eyes staring off into nothing, strings coming out of the threading in a few places. It was Panda Bear, his old toy. He made his way over to his bed and plopped down, grabbing up the old toy with a smile. He watched as its head sagged back, memories of all of his old adventures with the toy flooding back into his mind. It was comforting, the memories, things he may have forgotten rushing right back, reminding him of when he was young and happy.

He placed the bear on the dresser beside him and lay down on his bed, smile suddenly fading. That had been so long ago, and everything had changed since then. Things had been so simple, but now, everything was so much more complicated and confusing. He needed to figure out how to stop this, because he didn't know how much longer he could take it.

Chris settled into his bed, turning on his side and curling up into his comforter. He shut his eyes and listened as his brother's voice rang through his head, tone hard and stern:

"_Everything's changed, Christopher, _everything._"_

* * *

Chris was asleep, one leg dangling off the bed, the other slightly bent. His arms were clinging onto his pillow and he was still. Leo sat next to the bed, watching his son sleep. He looked so peaceful, so calm, and compared to earlier, that was quite a difference. Chris was mad at them, Leo understood that and knew that his son had a right to be, but Chris didn't fully understand everything. Everything about the other Chris was very complicated, and how were they supposed to know when to tell him about that? How did they explain all that had happened, how did _he_ explain how he had _treated_ Chris? He still felt terrible about that, even the sisters still held some guilt for not trusting him. Though Chris had manipulated them and lied to them numerous times during his stay, they should have seen it. He was stubborn, he was determined, he had Leo's eyes for Christ's sake. All of the clues were right in front of them but they were too busy not trusting him to put the pieces together.

Chris started to toss and turn, catching Leo's attention and drawing him out of his thoughts. He watched as the boy changed his position numerous times, letting out small moans as he did so. His features took on a look of pain and discomfort and right as Leo went to gently touch him and wake him up, the boy's eyes opened wide and he sat straight up in his bed, panting madly.

Leo instantly started up with comforting words, trying to calm his distressed son down, "Chris, it's okay." He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, "It was just a dream, buddy."

"Get off me!" Chris hissed, causing Leo to suddenly go wide-eyed and recoil his hand. The boy's eyes darted towards him, flashing hate and rage, "Leave me alone!" Chris stood from his place on the bed and stared down at his father, "I don't want you here! I hate you! I hate you, Leo! You were never there, you were going to give me to Wyatt, you were going to bring me back to him!"

"Chris! Chris!" Leo started, standing up from his seat and grabbing onto his son's shoulders, keeping his grip tight as the boy tried to fight him off, "What are you talking about?!"

Chris suddenly stopped his struggling and, to Leo's surprise, started to laugh hysterically. Leo let go of his son's arms and watched as the laughing boy fell back down onto his bed, his eyes starting to tear up, "I don't know!" Chris responded through the laughs as they died down, "That's not _you_." He paused and placed his head in his hands, "I'm just so _confused_."

Leo sat down beside his son and wrapped an arm around him, comforting the boy as best he could. Chris buried his head in his father's shoulder and let himself cry. Everything was just so overwhelming for him. They all knew about it and everything was just getting so much worse. He couldn't handle this anymore, he needed it to just go away. It was too much.

There was a creak from the door, causing Leo to look up and spot Piper and Wyatt standing in the doorway, both watching the scene from a far. He assumed Chris' yelling must have woken them up, and he locked eyes with his wife as he pulled his son in tighter, both thinking the same thing.

Though Chris was back and safe, everything was not okay.

What was going on with their son was very far from over.

* * *

Thank you all so much for reading and hopefully reviewing!

I have yet to finish the next chapter, but whenever I do I will post it up, I promise!

Somewhat brief summary for my plans for it go as following: The Sisters, Leo, and Chris all have a talk about the other Chris and Wyatt and Chris have a fight.

There _may _be a scene with Bianca, but don't get your hopes up. I'm not sure about that yet. This is definitely not the last we'll see of her though :)

Thanks again for reading and I really hope you all review!


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, as usual. A few lines of dialogue in this chapter were taken from the episode,_ Spin City._**

Thank you all so much for the reviews last chapter, I really appreciate it and I'm glad to see you all like the story so much!

I hope you all like the new chapter!

:)

* * *

Piper rushed around the kitchen that bright morning, grabbing up different ingredients and swiftly moving back and forth between the stove and the island. Many different foods were cooking on the stove; bacon was sizzling and pancakes were bubbling. Piper quickly flipped the pancakes over to their other side, allowing it to cook as she slid the bacon strips onto a plate next to the stove. She was making everything and anything that she knew Chris loved. The pancakes were chocolate chip (Chris' favorite kind) the bacon was crispy (the way he loved it) and she was even making him a batch of his favorite cookies--Chunky Chocolate Chip. She was determined to get her son to forgive her--and knowing the stubborn child she raised, she knew this would be a hard battle to win. Chris could really hold a grudge.

Piper began scooping out small balls of cookie dough and plopping them onto a tray as she caught onto the jingling sound of orbs, looking up from her spot to find her two sisters appearing.

"Wow." Paige exclaimed, her eyes scanning over the stacks of pancakes and bacon before landing on the cookies Piper was scooping out, "Are you planning on feeding an army with this?"

"No." Piper rolled her eyes as a timer suddenly went off, causing the oldest sister to rush to the oven. "I'm making all of Chris' favorites." She pulled down the door and the smell of Piper's famous sauce began to filter out as she slid out a freshly cooked lasagna.

"Piper, honey," Phoebe started, watching as her sister placed the lasagna down on the counter, "I think it's a little early for lasagna." Piper made her way back to the cookies, ignoring her sister's comment, and began scooping out more balls. "The same goes for the cookies." Phoebe quickly added.

"And I think you're overdoing it _just_ a _little_, Piper." Paige started in right after the middle sister as she crossed her arms, receiving a death-glare from Piper as she briefly looked up from her cookies. "There's no way he's going to eat all of this."

"I know that, _Paige_." Piper responded with a hint of annoyance as she picked up a tray of cookies and moved her way over to the oven. "It's not _all_ for him. I'm just making his favorites."

"So," Paige started as Piper made her way back to them, picking up a plate of pancakes on her way, "since we both came here to help you talk with Chris, do we get to eat some of this?" Paige's lips curled up into a smile as she stared at the warm pancakes. Her sister was an amazing chef, and Paige would jump at the chance to eat anything she made. Friday night dinners were always something she looked forward to just because of that.

"Yes," Piper responded, Paige instantly going to grab up a pancake. Piper quickly swatted her hand away from the stack. "But _after _we talk to Chris."

Paige crossed her arms and pouted, "Fine." She declared, eyes flashing around the room quickly, looking for someone before letting her eyes settle back on Piper. "Where is that neurotic nephew of mine? I would have suspected the smell of Chunky Chocolate Chip cookies would lure him in here."

"He's in the sun room." Leo's voice answered. All three sisters turned their gazes towards the man, spotting Leo, wearing a weak smile, as he walked in. "He's been up all night since ..." he trailed off, not knowing how to explain what had happened last night.

"The breakdown." Piper gave him the word he was looking for, though saying it didn't really please the eldest sister. Last night, when she had spotted Chris crying--something she hadn't seen him do since he was little--it had really pulled at her heart. He was so confused, and that was all her fault. Hopefully Chunk Chocolate Chip cookies could hep her gain his forgiveness.

There was an awkward silence that filled the room for a moment before Leo started back up. "Yeah ... well, ever since then he's been looking through the books I took out of Magic School about premonitions and time travel." He had noticed they were missing from where he left them earlier that day before and instantly knew who had taken them. "I was about to go in and talk to him, but his look clearly told me otherwise once he heard me coming."

"No surprised there." Piper commented as she turned to turn off the burners on the stove. "But we are all going to go in there now and talk with him." She informed her sisters and her husband as she started to lead the way. "And if he gives us that look I'll send him one that's ten times worse."

Both Paige and Phoebe rolled their eyes at that, the two sisters along with Leo letting their lips curl up into a small smile. Out of all of the members of the family, Piper and Chris had a knack for giving the scariest, most deadly looks that gave you a hint of exactly what they were feeling without the need of the power of empathy. Piper's was the worst though, and even Chris usually succumbed to her death glares.

Piper charged her way into the sun room, Leo and the sister following close behind, causing Chris to look up from his notes. He was surrounded by open and stacked books--all varying in size--a legal pad on his lap and a cup of coffee next to him. He instantly narrowed his eyes and looked at all four of them, dropping his pencil on the table to cross his arms and focused his glare towards his dad.

"So, dad, apparently you didn't get the hint when I glared at you from across the room five minutes ago." He started, looking rather peeved and angry. "Let me clarify for you: Leave. Me. _Alone_." He hissed the three words with such hate and such a stern tone that Paige, Phoebe, and Leo couldn't help but think of how much he was really like his mother. He had definitely inherited her temper.

Chris picked up his pencil and began to continue jotting down the thought he had been cut off on, waiting for his family to walk out of the room and obey his wishes. Sadly, he wasn't going to see that happen.

Piper crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, taking on a look that was even more frightening and stern than Chris' had been, "Christopher Perry Halliwell, you do _not_ talk to your father that way and we will _not_ leave you alone."

Chris instantly looked up at his mother, eyes narrowed, ready to protest, but quickly caught onto her look. That look always set him straight; stopped him from talking back or disobeying. Her eyes were hard and frightening, face tough and stern, letting him know that she would not be having any of his attitude.

"We all need to talk." Piper added after she noticed her son's glare soften and his eyes fall back away from her, her death glare working just as she pleased.

"There's nothing to talk about." Chris replied, trying his hardest to ignore his mother's glare, flipping to the next page of the book he was reading.

"_I think there is. Quite a bit, actually." Leo responded, voice somewhat calm, yet stern at the same time._

Chris started to rub at his temples, suddenly getting a bit more irritated than before. Stupid freaking voices, did they ever stop?

"Yes, there is, Chris." Piper retorted sternly. "After all that happened yesterday and last night--"

"_It doesn't matter._" Chris cut in, responding to both his mother and his father, trying his hardest to focus on the words typed in the book in front of him instead of everything that was going on in his head and around him. He was sadly failing miserably. He was still cursing himself for letting himself breakdown like that last night. Yes, he had been confused,_ so confused_, and just so sick of dealing with all of the shit that seemed to be piled on him, but he should have held it in. He was embarrassed about crying and he had just decided to pretend it never happened, because it _should_ have never happened. Damn his exhausted and worn moment of weakness.

"_It does to _me_, Chris." Leo insisted. "You're my son. I think I deserve to know what I did that's so bad."_

Fuck Leo. He's such a prick, such a freaking asshole! God, he just wanted to hit him so hard, punch him and punch him over and over so that self-righteous dick could know how he felt all of those years when his father had practically ignored him. He wanted his father to know what it felt like for him every time his old man disappointed him yet again. Wait, this wasn't _his_ Leo. His Leo was his _dad_. His Leo was a good dad, a _great dad--_though he had his flaws, but nothing as big as the other Leo's.

Chris rubbed at his head a little harder. He was getting a little irked by his family's presence and the presence of the conversation in his head, the pencil in his hand starting to tap quickly against the legal pad he was writing on. On top of everything that had happened last night, he was mad at them all, so mad. He had been trying to keep his distance because he honestly felt like throwing them all through a wall, and since he had the ability to and was about ready to scream thanks to the voices in his head, he was really tempted to do just that. His fingers were just tingling with anticipation, ready to throw Leo halfway across the room. When he was really angry he didn't know what his powers would do, especially his new power, and he didn't want to _really_ hurt his family. He was hoping that they'd eventually just leave him alone and let him continue coming up with multiple theories as to what the hell was going on with him and how to stop it. Eventually his anger would settle and he would be ready to talk with them--_very _cryptically though.

_Chris hesitated before he began, trying to hold back the tears that seemed to be threatening to start swelling. "You were never there for me. You were there for everybody else. For mom, Wyatt, _half the world_, but you were _never_ there for _me_. You didn't have the_ time_."_

Piper suddenly slammed the book that Chris was reading shut, causing the boy to look up her way, wide eyes red and puffy, tears swelling up behind his jade orbs.

"Chris." Piper started, her motherly concern instantly kicking in full throttle. "What's wrong?"

Chris rubbed at his eyes, surprised to feel tears really swelling up behind them. He didn't understand why _he_ was crying. He was so embarrassed. His aunts and parents had to all be in here right now? He rubbed harder, trying to erase the red and the tears from his face, but was failing miserably.

"_So maybe you came back from the future not just to save Wyatt, maybe you came back to save us too." His father suggested with a sense of hope in his voice._

The tears started swelling up even more, and Chris cursed himself. "Dammit." He hissed, rubbing hard at his eyes. "Stop_ crying_." He somehow believed that ordering his other self to give it a rest would help the situation, but it wasn't like his other self could listen or obey. This all had already happened, and there was no way to change such a small detail as this.

Phoebe instantly picked up on what Chris was feeling, the floodgates that had once been holding his emotions back breaking apart and letting them all rush out to her. His potion had worn off, which would really irritate Chris when he realized it. There was so much flying around. Hate, anger, rage, confusion, depression. Her eyes flashed over to her brother-in-law. A _lot_ of it was centered towards Leo. It felt like there were two sets of emotions in him, one for him and one for the other him, she assumed, and the other him was screaming out to her right now.

Leo caught onto Phoebe's look and turned his head her way, instantly catching onto what she had realized from her look. It was all about him, all of it. He didn't understand why Chris was crying though. One minute, they were all arguing, and the next, his son was crying. It didn't make sense ... And then he remembered. "_There's nothing to talk about." _He had heard those five words before, right out of his twenty-two year old son's mouth. The night the other Chris beat him up after being infected by the Spider Demon, they had had that talk. Leo remembered it perfectly, and Chris had said exactly that when he had first arrived.

"Chris." Leo started, making his way over to his son, the boy looking up towards him, eyes still tearing up. He didn't know what to do, but he tried to comfort his son the best he could. "It's okay, buddy, when the conversation finishes, it'll be alright."

Piper looked his way, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"I think he's hearing the conversation that we had that night after the Spider Demon was vanquished." Leo explained to his wife. Piper let the thought settle for a moment before turning her gaze back to her son.

"_I doubt it." Chis responded, voice rough and breaking. _

Chris rubbed harder at his eyes and the family gave him a few moments, waiting for whatever was going on with Chris to finally end. The tears vanished from his face and Chris was back to normal--a bit embarrassed, but at least he was no longer crying.

He looked up towards them and crossed his arms, trying to pretend he hadn't just started bawling and went on with their fight. "You guys should have told me about him, you didn't have a right to hide it, and I hope you feel really guilty."

"Are we even going to talk about what just happened?" Paige asked from her spot, still a little freaked out by her nephew's sudden outburst of tears.

"No." Chris shot back. "It was nothing, pretend you didn't see it and let's move on with our argument." He rubbed at his head, feeling a headache coming and felt like screaming in frustration. If he fell into a vision, he was going to throw something ... or someone.

"What just happened, Chris?" Phoebe asked, curious, yet confused. "Are you hearing voices or something?"

"Yes, but that doesn't matter. It doesn't happen often, forget about everything you just saw." He narrowed his eyes at his aunt. "I mean, you guys just decided to pretend that the other Chris didn't come here and hid it from me, so we're going to do the same with this, because if you're allowed to do it, then so am I."

"Look," Piper started, her stern brown eyes locked with her son's jade ones. I know you're mad at us for not telling you about the other Chris--and we all feel really bad about that--but we can't change what we did." Piper watched as her son leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, eyes still locked with hers.

Chris rubbed at his temples as he stared at his mom, the pain in his head pulsating now, and he was pretty sure he knew what was going to happen next. Damn these visions and voices, he had to find a way to get rid of them, and quick.

"We want to talk about it all now though," Leo told his son, the young witch's eyes traveling over to his father. "Anything you want to know, we'll tell you. Hopefully you'll tell us a bit about what you've been seeing as well, so we can help you."

"_I'm trying to _help_ you, Christopher." Wyatt insisted. "I'm trying to show you the truth. Everything we ever learned--everything about magic and good and evil--was all a _lie_. They're not real, brother. They are just concepts created by our minds." The older brother pointed a finger at his head, his eyes never leaving his brother._

"_That's not true, Wyatt!" Chris replied back, staring up at his brother from his chained position on the wall, eyes narrowed. He studied his brother's features, taking in the dark demeanor, the black clothes, that emotionless look in his eyes._

"_What happened to you, Wyatt?" Chris asked, taking his brother a bit off guard by the question. "I can barely even recognize you anymore."_

_Wyatt let out a laugh at that and crossed his arms as he made his way towards his brother. "You can barely recognize _me_?" He laughed again and grabbed a clump his of his brother's hair, forcing the boy's head up. "Have you looked in a mirror lately? Where'd my little brother go? Remember what we promised each other at mom's funeral?" Wyatt paused, staring straight into his brother's eyes. "We said we'd always stick together; we promised we'd take care of each other. It would be _us_ against the _world_ from then on. What happened to that, _little brother_?"_

"_You turned into a sadistic maniac, that's what happened, _big brother._" Chris responded, eyes narrowed as he stared up at Wyatt._

"_Really?" Wyatt let go of his brother's hair and took a few steps back, keeping a calm look while on the inside his temper was rising. "Is that what you see me as, Chris?" Wyatt's hand slid down to his belt, hand gently curling up into a fist as he gripped the handle of the weapon concealed by his coat._

"_You're a _monster,_ Wyatt." Chris hissed from his spot, letting his head slowly move up so he could lock eyes with his brother._

"_Well then," Wyatt started, taking a few steps closer to his brother, hand carefully sliding out the dagger from its place. "Let's see how sadistic I can be." He suddenly lunged the dagger into his brother's chest, the boy's eyes going wide. "I'll get rid of that whole good and evil concept from your mind if I have to _bleed_ it out of you, Christopher, I swear." He pushed the dagger in more, the boy letting out a harsh gasp. "I'll show you the truth, and then we'll rule this world together, as brothers, like I always planned for it to be."_

"Chris!"

His eyes suddenly shot open wide and his arm wrapped around his chest, feeling the strong sting of pain that the dagger in his vision had caused. He lifted his head up and looked towards where the call had come from, spotting his mother sitting next to him on the chair. Chris sat himself up slowly, the pain still radiating in his chest, and let his eyes wander to his father and aunts, who all surrounded him, worry creasing their features.

"Are you okay?" Paige asked, studying her nephew with concern, the black circles under his eyes standing out on his pale skin. Those circles had been there for months now, but they still always seemed to shock her whenever she saw them. The kid wasn't sleeping, he was probably stressed beyond belief--she was surprised the boy wasn't sprouting premature grays by now.

"I'm fine." Chris insisted, slowly releasing the grip he had on his stomach as the pain subdued. "I've gotten used to all of this ... kind of."

"Is that what happened in my kitchen a few weeks ago?" Phoebe asked, her thoughts instantly flying to the moment when her nephew had just collapsed to the floor. That had been one scary and unexplained event.

"You catch on quick, don't you, Aunt Phoebe?" Chris responded quickly with a jibe, feeling much more like himself as the pain disappeared and the only thing left from his vision was the images themselves. He had had to be around fourteen then, and Wyatt seemed a little less sadistic than usual. The beginning of his rule must have been nothing compared to the pain he caused as his rule went on.

"What did you see?" Leo asked, both intrigued and concerned. First, whatever had been going on his head had caused the kid to cry, and now, he had seen his son gripping onto his stomach, looking as if he was in pain, and that worried him. If these things were causing him pain, then that was definitely not a good sign. An extension of his premonition power that was that strong would be something that his son would definitely not be able to handle. It did give him some information about the visions that Chris would no doubt be keeping very cryptic about.

"None of your _business_." Chris shot back harshly, eyes darting up to his dad.

"_Christopher_." Piper warned her child to watch his tone and words with just the call of his name. The younger Halliwell leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"You don't need to know about what I'm seeing." He told them. "The other Chris came back to stop this family from having to go through that hell, and these are things you just don't need to ever know of."

No one spoke a word of argument after that, each falling silent as their thoughts fell onto the other Chris and every cryptic thing he had told them about the future. The fact that Piper apparently died young, the fact that Wyatt grew up to torture the entire world. It made them wonder what Chris saw; if he was forced to see Wyatt kill, if he saw _Piper _die. Chris was right; these were things they just didn't need to know about, but the fact that Chris had seen these things and was forced to go through them alone just felt like too much of a burden for a kid his age.

"Fine." Leo replied, agreeing that they really didn't need to know. "But if you ever feel like it's to much for you to handle, you can talk to us, alright?"

"Alright." He nodded simply.

"Tell me about him." Chris started up again after a moment, looking up towards his mother. Though he was still angry, he was willing to let them tell him about the other Chris now. He needed all the information he could find on the subject in order to somehow stop these visions. That was his goal now that the Seer was out of the way: get rid of these cursed things once and for all.

Paige was the first to speak up, commenting that he was neurotic, secretive, and a pain in the ass to work with, but was very driven. They all started to tell the sixteen-year-old of his older counterpart. They told him about the first day he appeared and helped them save Paige from the stone form she had been turned into, how he had kept his identity a secret, how he worked non-stop to save his brother, and in the end even gave his own life to do just that. They told their Chris everything, watching as the young teenager took it all in, sitting on that couch giving nods and asking few questions in between their stories. It was a tricky and confusing subject to talk about, and when they got close to the end of the other Chris' time in the past, it became harder and harder to even talk about, for Leo especially. Every time he thought of the other Chris, he remembered that young twenty-two year old lying on that bed, dying in his arms and vanishing without a trace that he ever existed.

After that point of the story, when the sisters and Leo were all stuck on what felt like the end, Chris added, "And then I was born."

They all looked up his way, Piper and Leo sharing a brief look before a smile stretched across each of their faces.

"Yeah," she nodded, smiling at her youngest son, her thoughts shifting away from the older Chris and onto the first time she ever held her newborn son. She remembered when Leo came in, and that was when they realized they all had not really lost Chris; he was still there right with them, perfectly healthy and breathing.

"And then you were born."

* * *

Chris sat outside in the lawn, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he stared at his surroundings. The sun had set an hour ago and the sky was dark, the street lit up by the streetlights that lined the streets. He had decided to escape from the house and his research for a bit. His father was now helping him with solving the riddle of how to stop what he's seeing, and though he made it clear to his aunts and parents that he had not forgiven them, he had accepted their help. They all knew now, and since he wasn't really hiding anything anymore, there wouldn't be any harm in them helping him. He needed a break now and then anyway. He needed to sleep as well, but that was highly unlikely. That night would be yet another sleepless night for him, filled with research and probably a vision or two. He hoped he'd figured out how to stop it soon; he really missed getting a good nights sleep.

Chris took a drag and laid back in the grass, letting his eyes wander up towards the sky. There were no stars, but that was okay. For some reason, he felt himself reminiscing about the first time he and Wyatt ever orbed up to the top of the Golden Gate Bridge. His father had once told them that it was his favorite spot to go when he still could orb. You were way up, away from everything, and you could just think. It was peaceful and perfect. Wyatt and he had decided to orb up there one night when they were younger, having to wake up in the middle of the night so that their mother would not catch them. She knew they wanted to but felt it was too dangerous for a six year old and an eight year old. When they got up there, it was frightening at first, but the view was amazing. Chris had instantly fallen in love with the spot an orbed up there many times after, sometimes with Wyatt, sometimes without. He hadn't gone there in such a long time, and for some reason, he felt like maybe tonight he'd sneak up there, just sit and watch as the cars passed by below him. He liked the idea, and he really missed that peace.

"The Golden Gate Bridge, huh?"

Chris suddenly sat up and turned his head, expression instantly turning sour as he spotted Wyatt walking over to him and taking a seat next to him. "We really haven't been there in a while, have we?"

"I've got to find a way to get rid of this damn Bond." Chris commented with irritation, his mood instantly changing as the brother who decided to betray his trust just had to walk in and ruin his semi-peaceful moment.

"So I take it you're still mad at me, then?" Wyatt asked from his spot next to his brother. He had figured that much. Chris wasn't one to forgive easily, though Wyatt had actually hunted down his brother to try to explain himself and by some miracle get his forgiveness. Chris had been ignoring him ever since he got back, and whenever he entered the room, his younger brother would hastily exit.

"Good guess." Chris responded, taking a drag of his cigarette before smashing the butt into the ground and pulling out another stick from the pack that sat next to him in the grass. "Now," he started, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he fiddled with his lighter, "if you don't want me to send you flying into oncoming traffic--" Chris got the stick lit then, and took a quick inhale before continuing, "I suggest you go back inside and _leave me alone_."

"I don't understand what was so bad about telling them!" Wyatt started, trying to justify what he did. "It wasn't like they weren't going to find out eventually anyway."

"I kept it a secret for nine months, Wyatt." Chris reminded his brother. "I think the secret was pretty safe until _you _found out." He paused as he took a puff of his cigarette. "Damn that stupid Bond." He hissed yet again.

"Yeah, but it's not like it's such a _horrendous_ thing that they found out." The older brother insisted.

"Yes, I think it is, Wy!" Chris exclaimed, irritation growing. "They don't look at me the same anymore. Ever since yesterday I can tell that whenever they look at me they think of him instantly. It wasn't like that before, and I know that they want me to tell them about what I'm seeing, but I can't and I won't."

"Why not?"

"You only saw one, stupid vision that was pretty much nothing compared to the other crap I've seen!" Chris explained, voice rising, puff after puff of his cigarette being quickly consumed. "I've seen people die, Wyatt! I've seen so many people that I _love _die right in front of me. I can't tell them that stuff, I can't tell them about what that other world is like." The younger Halliwell took a drag from his cigarette and exhaled slowly, calming his voice down a bit as he continued. "I didn't want them to know because no one should have to know about that stuff, it's too much for me, and I'm not going to put them through the same pain I've been through by telling them what they want to know."

The two brothers sat in silence, Wyatt going over what his brother had just told him as the younger boy stared out at the street, finishing off another cigarette and--like clockwork--pulling out the next and lighting it from his lips again.

"I killed all of them, didn't I?" Wyatt asked, breaking the silence. "Well, not me, but the _other_ me?"

"It doesn't matter." Chris simply responded, taking a drag.

"It does to m--"

"No." Chris cut him off harshly, turning his head to look towards his older brother, eyes narrowed. "It doesn't matter because you are not _him_ and will never _be_ _him_. I dealt with the Seer to make sure of that, and I'm practically losing it now because of it."

"Wait, what do you mean, 'losing it?'" Wyatt asked. Though he had a pretty good idea of what his brother meant, he'd like to hear it from the younger boy himself.

"I mean going crazy, straight-jacket, throw-me-in-a-nut-house type of 'losing it.'" Chris replied, taking a puff from his cigarette as he rubbed at his temples. There weren't any voices at the moment, thankfully, but he could definitely feel a small pain in his head starting up again. He didn't know if it was just from stress or from the visions.

"What?!" Wyatt was a little surprised by that. He had thought things were somewhat better--minus his brother crying last night. Now, _that_ was an odd sight. He'd _never_ seen his brother cry like that, not since he was a little kid. He just thought his brother had been overwhelmed by everything he'd been dealing with. He was starting to get worried now. "Do you know how to stop it?"

"Not yet." Chris responded with a shrug, still rubbing at his temples. "But I'm working on it." Twenty books later and fifteen pages of notes and theories and he still had no clue exactly what was happening and how to stop it. There had been no reported cases like his, so there was no real solution written for him. His father was working on getting more books and taking more notes at the moment, working with both sets of theories they came up with. He was hoping that the new books would shine some light on the situation, though he doubted it.

Wyatt noticed his brother's rigorous rubbing of his temples and raised an eyebrow.

"You okay?" He asked his brother out of concern, watching as the boy's jade eyes snapped towards his and looked at him through his fingers.

"I'm still mad at you, you know." Chris told his brother, deciding that he should clarify that. Just because he had told him all of that didn't mean he was forgiven. He just confided in him because that was what he was used to doing. Wyatt had always been that person for him, and though he did it less often now, he still felt the need to confide in him from time to time. "You're not forgiven and won't be for a while."

"Fine." Wyatt nodded, knowing that there really was no way to gain his brother's forgiveness right then and there. In time (he hoped) Chris would forgive him, but at least they were on okay terms at the moment. "Am I allowed to help you figure out how to stop it?

"Whatever, sure." Chris responded, throwing his cigarette onto the ground and standing up. He stomped the butt hard into the ground before turning to add. "Just don't bug me too much. The whole throwing you into oncoming traffic thing is still a possibility."

"You need some anger management." Wyatt responded with a jibe as he stood from his spot on the grass right as Chris began to walk away. The younger boy turned his head back.

"And you need to learn how to keep a secret." Chris responded, a small smirk forming on his lips as he added, "But you're just like Aunt Phoebe, so I doubt that'll ever happen."

"Hey!" Wyatt exclaimed as he rushed towards his younger brother's retreating form. "I am _not _as bad as Aunt Phoebe!"

Chris just ignored him, a smirk still shining on his features as he made his way into the house, Wyatt quickly catching up and walking a few steps ahead of him. As the two entered the house, Chris turned back when he reached the door and looked outside. Wyatt stopped when he noticed the absence of Chris' footsteps. He stared at his brother, watching as the kid studied the dark sky.

"_Golden Gate Bridge?"_ Chris turned his head and looked towards his brother. He wanted to go really bad that night for some reason. He wanted to get away for a bit, but the whole idea of a vision suddenly striking him and him falling off the bridge kind of scared him a little. He needed Wyatt to come, just in case.

Wyatt gave a smile and a nod.

Seconds apart, the two boys disappeared in a swirl of blue and white lights.

* * *

Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you all review as well!

The next chapter will be posted as soon as I'm done writing it (I'll start it soon, I swear!) and Bianca should be back in the story for sure next chapter.

Sadly, this story is coming close to its end. I'd love to write a sequel, because I love writing this story so much. I have ideas floating around in my head, but I'll have to see where it takes me. If you guys have any suggestions for a plot, I'd love to hear your ideas! PM me or just leave it in review!

Thanks again for reading and I hope you all review!

:)


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, as usual!**

Thank you all so much for the reviews for last chapter, I apperictae them all so much!

And let me clarify: Chris hasn't forgiven anyone and he's still mad (this chapter will definitely prove that to you). Chris is a smart kid and I feel like he would try to be at least civil to his family if he knew that they would be able to help him in any way.

Alright, now, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Acoustic guitar blasted through the speakers in Chris' room at almost maximum volume. This was his newest idea for blocking out the voices. He thought somehow he could beat them out with music, then they'd let him be for a bit. He was also still pretty pissed at his entire family, and his mother hated when he blasted music. Even though he was trying to keep on good terms with them in order to get their help with fixing what was wrong with him, every now and then he really almost flung his hand out and shot them through a wall. Especially his father. He wanted to know a little too much in Chris' opinion, and whenever he bothered him, Chris' hands were tingling, begging him to just throw him through the wall to their left or throw a frying pan from the kitchen at his head. That would probably end up killing his old man though, so he kept his temper in check. He was mad and he wouldn't get over it that easily. Trying to stay on good terms with his family in order to help fix his problem was hard for him to do at the moment.

He had been keeping mostly isolated the past two days though, trying to avoid much contact with the family. Aside from being mad at them, he just felt like he didn't belong anymore. Ever since he started having these visions, he had been starting to feel that drifting feeling, but now that they knew, it was like he was on a whole different plane than them. They looked at him and they saw the other Chris, _then_ they saw him. It was hard for him to deal with, and it felt like that bond he was supposed to have with his family was on its last strands. He was an outcast, he didn't belong, but a small part of him still did. He hoped once he got rid of these things he'd be able to feel that bond fixing its self and the looks he got from his family would quickly fade, but he doubted. It would take a while to fix everything--if it could be fixed--and no matter how much he tried, he'd never feel like he truly belonged in the family as much as he used to. He had seen too much, he _knew_ too much. This would always be separating him from his family in some way, even when it was gone. Too much had happened for him to go back to being the same Chris he was those months ago, and his family knew it as well.

"You've been quiet for a while." The soft voice of the Phoenix sitting on his bed broke him away from his pondering, causing his tired jade eyes to look her way from his spot near his desk.

Bianca had orbed in a little less than an hour ago to see how he was. She had also brought him another potion from his good old friend Terry to block his aunt and cousin. He knew Aunt Phoebe had been catching onto his feelings because she had been acting much more comforting than she usually did, and was _insanely_ in cue with the many emotions that were swelling inside of him. Terry hadn't warned the potion would wear off that fast, he had made it seem like it would be much longer than a few weeks, but his explanation had something to do with the Seer meddling with his head. The potion put up a sort of barrier in his head, and he believed the Seer did something that screwed up the barrier when she was in his head. He had taken the potion again and his thoughts and feelings were safe, and that was all that mattered.

"What's on your mind?" Bianca asked, titling her head to the side as she leaned back and rested her hands against the comforter. There was a book next to her--one on time travel, Chris believed--that she was reading for him. She had agreed to help him with his research, still feeling the need to help.

"A lot of things." Chris responded, placing his hand on his head as he leaned back to rub at his temples, stressed beyond belief. He just sat like that for a moment, contemplating a thought, before looking towards Bianca and speaking up. "I hate this, you know. I hate magic, all it's ever done for me is put me in a deep amount of shit and I just can't stand this anymore!" Chris kicked the trash can beside his foot with force, causing wads of legal paper and candy wrappers to topple out onto the floor. "I want to bind my powers, I want to just abandon my family and never deal with their magical crap again."

"Binding your powers will only get you killed." Bianca responded with a calm tone. By the grunt and huff that Chris gave in response, she could tell the teenager knew she was right. She understood where Chris was coming from--she and every witch like him had had the same feelings once or twice in their life, but they eventually learned to accept who they were. "You've got to learn to accept who you are, Chris. You're a witch, and magic will always be a part of you."

"You sound like my parents right now, you know that?" Chris responded with a hint of annoyance. He knew she was right, but he had to argue with her still. He hated magic, he really hated it.

"Well, your parents are pretty intelligent people then." The assassin responded, her lips curling up into a smile as she noticed Chris' feature scrunch up, shining even more irritation.

"I hate magic."

"And I get that," Bianca told him, "but you're going to have to get over it eventually and embrace who you are, because just cause you hate it doesn't mean it's going to go away."

"You're really pissing me off." Chris responded, sending a glare her way as he crossed his arms.

"I'm only pissing you off because you know I'm right." Bianca replied, lips curling up into a wider smile as she noticed Chris let out a huff of annoyance, confirming what she just said.

"After you solve this whole vision thing, you'll be able to find a balance between magic and your normal life, then you'll learn to embrace it." Bianca added on.

"I don't know if I can get over this though." Chris replied, letting his eyes wander over to the open book that sat on his desk. He picked it up and placed it in his lap. "There's no way to forget what I saw, and I'm never going to feel the same about my family again; I've seen too much."

Bianca sat silent for a moment, not knowing how to respond to that. Though she had not met the Chris from nine months ago, she knew that he'd never be that kid again. He was forever changed. He would be like this forever, not able to go back to a more innocent time, before he knew of the darkness that existed in that other time. She did know that when this was all gone, he would be able to accept magic, after everything that caused him so much pain was gone. He'd have the memories of what he had seen, but there would be nothing left to hurt him. Chris and his brother were destined to do great things, all of the magical community knew that.

"I'll be here for you." Bianca spoke up, causing Chris to look back up from his text and over to her. "I'll be here to help you embrace magic and accept it. I'll support you, and your family will too, but if you don't feel like you can deal with them, just remember: I'm here."

Chris stared at the Phoenix for moment, a small weak smile appearing on his features, followed by a nod, "Thanks."

Accepting magic just felt like a completely foreign concept to him, especially when all it had done for him is screw him over, but he knew Bianca was right. If he bound his powers, it wouldn't stop demons from coming after him. Hating it wasn't going to help him any--though he didn't plan to stop hating it anytime soon--but he had to eventually embrace it. He was a freaking _Halliwell_, and the Powers That Be would not allow him to stray away from magic, not when his family name was pretty much the most feared of all.

That's when Chris started to hear the jingling in his head. That annoying, little jingling that made him want to rip off his ears. He knew what it was, but didn't want to be bothered with it right then. He did find it odd though--the Elders had never called him before, and why would they need to call him now? He didn't want to deal with their "Blessed be" and all that crap because he would probably not resist the urge to send 1000 volts of electricity through one of those assholes. He could resist throwing his annoying, stupid family through a wall, but the Elders were on a whole different level of annoyance. Even though he was more angry at his family than the Elders, he would probably end up attacking them more than attacking the family. Unlike his family, he didn't care about the Elders and at points wanted to hurt them for putting his family and him through so much crap over the years, but he wasn't allowed to do that either.

The jingling kept on ringing in his ears, persistent and annoying as he tried to concentrate on the book in front of him. It was rather tedious task, given the fact that it was loud as hell and more annoying than the damn voices. He tried to go on reading, but finally gave up, enraged.

"Stop calling me!" Chris screamed up towards the ceiling, causing Bianca to jump and look over towards the teenager with wide eyes.

The jingling continued.

"Give it a freaking rest!" He yelled, "I'm not coming Up There!"

"Are the Elders calling you?" Bianca asked with a raised eyebrow, a little surprised that they were actually summoning him to go Up There. Witches are not allowed to go up there, but Chris _was _half Elder, so maybe that lead to an exception?

"Yes," Chris told her, letting his jade eyes look towards her for a brief moment before darting right back up to the sky, "and I'm not coming! Leave me alone!"

There was a sudden knock on the door, causing both Chris and Bianca to look over towards it. They shared a brief look, and Bianca shut her book and stood up, "See you later." She gave a small wave before disappearing, two more beats of knocking following.

"Chris!"

It was Wyatt, not someone who Chris was really pleased to hear at the moment. He was still peeved at the older boy, and even though he had confided in his brother and agreed to let him help still didn't mean he had forgiven him. The stupid asshole told his secret, there was no way he'd forgive the boy that easily. He was in no mood to confide in the older Halliwell or engage in small talk, so he quickly turned down his music and headed over to the door, opening it just a crack.

He peeked his head through the crack, wearing an irritated look, pissed at his brother and the jingling in his ears. "Still mad at you." Chris told the boy, eyes narrowed. "So, if you want me to get over it sooner, I suggest you leave me the hell alone."

Wyatt was starting to get a little irked by the fact that his brother just could not seem to forgive anyone, but instead of stating his mind, he just held up a book. "Dad's done with this." He waved the book gently in the air, "He wanted me to give it to you and he wants to talk about some ideas he came up with and your notes."

Chris grabbed the book from Wyatt's hand quickly and threw it onto his bed, "Tell him that I'll just give him my notes to go over and that I'd rather not have a long father-son talk since I'm still mad at him too."

"Oh, come on, Chris; grow up!" Wyatt told the boy with an irritated roll of his eyes. "So our parents and aunts hid something from you because they were trying to protect you: get over it!"

"If you were in my position, you'd be just as mad." Chris hissed back, the jingling in his ears increasing to a very high pitch. He grabbed at his head and looked up towards the ceiling.

"Stop calling me already!" He screamed. "Just shut up!"

Wyatt stared at his brother with a curious look, "The Elders are calling you?" The Elders had never called either of them before, so this was definitely strange.

"That's none of your business." Chris retorted hastily.

"Go see what they want." Wyatt told his brother. "I don't think they're going to stop calling you if you keep yelling at them. You're probably just pissing them off."

"Well . . . you're pissing me off." Chris retorted weakly, the jingling increasing in volume yet again. He let out a huff of annoyance, knowing that his brother was right. He'd have to go see what they wanted cause they'd never shut up if he didn't.

"The whole family's got you pissed off." Wyatt responded with a roll of his eyes.

Chris suddenly went back into his room, slamming the door right in Wyatt's face before coming back a few seconds later with a stack of paper.

"Give those to dad." Chris informed his brother before looking up at the ceiling one more time--distaste and hate apparent on his features--before disappearing in a swirl of blue and white orbs.

* * *

It was very white Up There, that was the first thing Chris noticed as his orbs landed him on a white, cloudy floor. The room was filled with white mist, making it somewhat hard to see. He instantly spotted the Elders standing in front of him, dressed in their shinning, gold robes, each wearing that almost emotionless face that seemed to never change. He crossed his arms and sent a glare their way.

"Blessed Be, Christopher." Odin greeted him, keeping on a calm and content face, seeming to ignore the boy's glare.

"Cut the 'Blessed Be' crap." He responded, letting his eyes drift over each one of them. "I've got more important things to do right now. So, please, just tell me why you called me up here so I can get on with saving my sanity."

Odin looked to the Elders surrounding him, sharing a look with the six others who stood to his sides, before starting up. "Very well, then." He started, looking back over towards Chris. "We've all been discussing what has been going on with you, and Sandra and Kevin believe that you deserve to know about _everything_."

Chris looked at them with a raised eyebrow, eyes still narrowed.

"What do you mean, 'everything?'" He asked, letting his eyes travel to Sandra and then Kevin. The two of them always seemed to be the most compassionate out of all the Elders, always being the ones that seemed the most willing to help. Chris could tolerate them, but the others just really irked him.

"When the other you died in the past," Sandra started, Chris' eyes darting back to her, "his body vanished, but not all of his soul vanished with it."

Chris just stared at her, eyebrow raised, a hint of confusion gracing his features. He was very curious to see where she was going with this.

"Since we had no way to properly recycle his soul--given the fact that you technically weren't born yet--we placed it in you."

Chris' eyes went wide at that. "So, what you're saying is that I'm _him;_ I'm the other Chris?"

"No." Odin shook his head as he cut in. "You are a separate person. You have your own soul inside you, a part of the other Christopher is just in there too. That's why you've been seeing what you've been seeing."

"We've been watching you very carefully ever since your visions started." Jonas told the young witch, his jade eyes instantly shooting over towards him. There was a hint of anger in the teenager's eyes, but Jonas just ignored it. "After what happened with the Seer, we realized that this extension of your premonition power was too much for you to handle, and we've been worried that you would start to stray even more."

"You are destined to do great things, Christopher," Kevin added, "both you and your brother. We can't risk losing you because of these visions."

"So you're going to help me stop it _now_?" Chris asked, crossing his arms. "You couldn't have come to this conclusion_ before_ I was kidnapped by the Seer?"

"You are given all of your powers for a reason, Christopher, and this was no exception." Odin replied. "We weren't going to interfere with what was already predestined, but now, we know we must."

"How do I stop it?" Chris asked them, small hints of how angry he truly was seeping in his tone. He was so angry and he just wanted to get out of there quick so he could go _throw_ something. He was more angry at them than he was at his brother and family combined. They could have interfered at any time, they had been watching him from the beginning, but they just let him suffer like that. What did he do to deserve to see all of those terrible things?

"You can't fully stop it." Sandra informed him. "But, what you can do is preform a ceremony. It should be able to somewhat separate the other Chris' soul from your own, causing your visions to happen less frequently. The pain will stop and you will no longer fall into them during your waking hours. It will be like it was when it just started; it will only happen while you sleep, and it will not happen everyday."

"How do I preform this ceremony?" Chris asked.

"You would need something much more powerful than your Bond with your brother and the Power of Three." She told him, Chris instantly rolling his eyes.

"Great." He replied. "And where the hell am I going to find something more powerful than that?"

"Call upon your ancestors for aid." Sandra told him. "The power of your lineage should be strong enough to complete the ceremony."

"The Book of Shadows has the words that should be spoken during the ceremony, there will just have to be some simple alterations to the incantation, and it will work perfectly."

"Alright." Chris gave a nod and let his eyes wander over all six of the Elders, the anger that was being held inside him just begging to burst out. They could have helped him sooner, they could have saved him from all of the shit he had to go through with the Seer, but _no_, they couldn't possibly help him until he had already started to go crazy.

"Do me a favor and leave me alone for a while." Chris told them, voice stern and eyes narrowed. "I don't want to hear from you_ assholes_ for a long time."

With that, Chris orbed right back to the manor, appearing in his room, music playing low in the background while his temper boiled over. He hated them, he hated them, he hated them! Chris suddenly turned up his music as loud as possible and let out a scream so loud that his throat hurt. He was so angry, so tired, and so sick of everything. The Elders could have helped him sooner, they could have stopped being such assholes and fixed this problem nine months ago, when he had his first vision. They had been watching him for so long, but just let it go on. Even when the pain started, even during the freaking coma! They just sat there, Up There, watching as he suffered, as his family suffered, and then, after many good times to intervene, they decided that they would tell him now, after the whole hell he went through with the Seer.

And his family! They had so many opportunities to tell him, but they didn't! He had made himself promise to try and keep his cool around them, act civil and polite because he needed their help, but he was having trouble even doing that anymore. He was angry at them, he couldn't even be around them that much anymore without feeling his temper boil up inside. He just wanted to yell and scream and throw something!

"Chris?" The sound of his name followed by the creak of his door opening caused the teenager to turn his head. His eyes instantly locked with the jade ones that stared at him from the door frame, and something just snapped in him.

He suddenly let out a scream and charged at his father, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt as he pushed the blond man to the ground.

"You asshole!" He yelled, raised his fist and punching his father square in the cheek. "I hate you! I hate you!"

He punched his father again, this time his fist colliding with his nose. It felt good to get his anger out, but he was no longer in control of his actions. He couldn't stop punching his father, he couldn't get himself to stop. He was so angry--not just at him, at everyone, at magic, at his screwed up life that was so far from normal--He was letting it all out on his father, and with every blow a different rage fueled feeling was released.

His father was trying to pry him off, screaming his name over and over, but he heard no calls. He suddenly felt an odd sense of deja vu, though he didn't understand why. It wasn't like he had beaten up his father before. Then, before he could even register what he was screaming, he yelled, "You don't know me! You don't _know me_!" He didn't understand where that was coming from, but he had a feeling it was the other Chris talking. It was consuming him now, he wanted to stop hitting his father now, _he _suddenly realized what he was doing and wanted to stop, but the other him wouldn't let him. He just kept punching and screaming.

"Chris!" His mother's voice suddenly screamed, her footsteps, followed by two other pairs, rushing towards them.

"Chris, no!" Piper grabbed at her son's arm tugging hard at the resistant boy. "Stop it!"

Piper tugged hard once more, grabbing hard onto her son's other arm, and succeeded in prying the boy off his father, the young witch falling to the ground beside his father, breathing heavily.

"Doesn't this bring back memories." Paige commented quickly to Phoebe before rushing over to Leo and helping the man lean up against the wall, raising her hands up quickly and beginning to heal him.

Piper's eyes flashed from her youngest son to her husband, she and Leo instantly locking eyes, both sharing a similar thought. She leaned down in front of their son, whose eyes were stuck on the ground, sore knuckles red and fist still curled up tight. His mind was still replaying everything that had just happened--every punch, every scream, every emotion.

"I'm guessing that talk Wyatt said you were having with the Elders didn't go too well?" She asked her son, the boy's eyes twitching slightly, but not daring to look up her way.

"I know how to stop it now." Chris told her, voice soft and low. "Those assholes decided that _now_ they could help me."

Chris suddenly stood up from his spot on the ground, eyes falling on his father, locking eyes with the man once again. He quickly looked back down towards the floor and whispered a soft, but sincere, "Sorry."

He quickly orbed himself out, needing space, some time to cool down, and a cigarette.

* * *

Thank you all so much for reading and hopefully reviewing!

I hope you all liked the chapter!

I will post the next chapter up as soon as I get it finished, which may be a while because Alan Wake comes out this week and I have a feeling that will preoccupy a lot of my time :) I can tell you that Grams and Patty will enter next chapter, and Chris will be keeping even more of a distance from his family after the whole Leo thing.

As for the sequel I was talking about, I've come up with a good idea, I believe, and this story will probably end on somewhat of a small cliffhanger, but it will have closure, I promise!

I promise the wait won't be too long, and I will try to work on both the game and this story equally.

Thanks again for reading and reviewing!


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own thoughts and ideas! Spells used in this chapter were taken from the show, and one was tweaked a little.**

Thank you all so much for the reviews last chapter, and I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter done and up! School and Alan Wake got in the way out writing, but I am now in summer and have so much time to write!

I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

* * *

"So," Paige started as she kneeled down and lit the last candle to complete the circle, "is there a reason why our nephew is not here summoning Grams and mom with us?" She stood back up and turned her attention to her two older sisters. Piper stood near the Book, leaning her elbows against the podium as she studied the incantation she had used many times to summon her mother and grandmother while Phoebe leaned against a table, watching her younger sister.

"I went to go get him but I can't find him." Piper responded, looking up from the Book, "Ever since he told me what the Elders told him, he's pretty much been avoiding me and his father like we were a disease."

"I'm still trying to wrap my mind around our very own James Dean beating the crap out of Leo." Paige chimed in. "I mean, who could have guessed that that was going to happen _again_?"

Piper sent a glare the younger sister's way, Phoebe sending her a similar look as well, causing Paige to instantly add, "What? Come on, you guys can't tell me you weren't all having some serious deja vu when he started screaming 'you don't know me' over and over. That was just so _weird_."

"It was, but that wasn't _our_ Chris." Phoebe stated, reminding her younger sister of the simple fact. "That was the other Chris' emotions taking our Chris over."

"No," Piper shook her head, "some of that was our Chris too. But I think it ended up turning more into the other Chris as he continued to hit Leo."

"Well, technically, it was still _our_ Chris who beat the crap out of Leo." Paige added as she walked over to the table Phoebe was leaning on and placed the lighter down. "And I'll be so happy when this whole mess is over and there will be no more confusion between which Chris is which, because this whole thing is really starting to give me a major headache." Paige rubbed at her temples for a few seconds before letting her hand fall back down to her side.

"Guess we should get this summoning started." Piper chimed in, letting her eyes fall back down onto the Book. "The sooner we summon Grams and mom, the sooner Chris will be okay."

Paige and Phoebe gave a nod of agreement. The three sisters neared the circle and started to chant:

"_Hear these words, _

_hear my cry,_

_Spirits from the_

_other side _

_Come to me, I summon thee_

_Cross now the Great Divide."_

They all watched as golden orbs beginning to flutter and form inside the candle circle, the orbs coming together to create two separate forms. Grams and Patty appeared in front of the three sister - their mother still looking young at the ripe age of twenty-seven, the way Phoebe and Piper remembered her. Grams looked at her three grandchildren, studying their expressions, before placing her hands on her hips and speaking up.

"Something looks wrong." She stated right away, knowing how to read her granddaughters perfectly. "What's going on?"

"_Mom_," Patty started up, rolling her eyes and glancing over at the woman, "something doesn't always have to be wrong for us to _both_ be summoned." Patty suddenly stopped herself and looked over towards her daughters, head titled. "Actually, maybe something _does _have to be."

"We're having a sort of ... " Piper trailed off, trying to find the right word for it. She looked towards her sisters to help, stopping to think for a moment.

"Dilemma, involving Chris." Phoebe suddenly declared, finished off her sister's thought.

"One of my grandsons, right?" Patty started up, a strong smile suddenly curling up on her lips. She always got excited at the mention of her grandchildren. Though she didn't really know them all so well, she still loved them all more than anything. The idea of having grandchildren just made her so happy!

Grams, on the other hand, rolled her eyes, showing a small hint of distaste for the boy. She had learned to accept her male great-grandchildren and love them, but she still didn't like men too much. "Three-Hundred years and no males until -"

"Grams," Piper started, instantly getting a bit peeved and becoming defensive of her two sons. "We've already been through this. Chris and Wyatt are boys, _your_ great-grandsons, get over it."

Grams rolled her eyes and crossed her arms at that. "I know, but _still -_"

"Alright." Paige cut in, catching onto the death-glare Piper was giving their grandmother and taking it as her cue to intervene before things got a little too out of hand. Piper could be really defensive about her children, and Grams was never one to easily back out of an argument. "How about we skip this whole fight about men in the Halliwell family and cut to the reason why we summoned you guys."

All of the room's occupants let their eyes fall onto the youngest sister, Phoebe and Piper both giving a nod as Piper pushed her anger aside and turned to look back towards her mother and grandmother.

"We need your help to preform a ceremony on Chris." Piper started up.

"What type of ceremony?" Patty asked, instantly fearing the worst for her grandson. "He's okay, right?"

The three sisters all shared a look, before Phoebe answered, "Yeah ... Well, sort of."

Both Grams and Patty raised an eyebrow at this, giving the three sisters a look that shined confusion and curiosity.

"So, he's not okay?" Patty asked, both baffled and worried.

"It's kind of a long story." Paige told the two deceased witches, sharing a brief look with both of her sisters, looking to see which one was willing to start explaining it.

"You see," Piper started, trying to find the shortest and easiest way to explain it, "another version of Chris came from the future to save Wyatt from turning evil and was killed while he was still stuck in the past."

"Apparently - and this is what Chris said the Elders told him - when the other him died in the past, they had no way to properly recycle his soul." Phoebe started in, deciding to not let Piper explain everything, especially since she had heard her sister's voice change a bit at the part when she mentioned Chris' death. "So, the Elders placed it inside baby Chris - _our_ Chris."

"And now," Paige continued on, "Chris is starting to see memories of the other Chris' reality, and because of that, chaos has ensued." She paused, before adding, "He's been in a coma and was kidnapped by the Seer -"

"What!" Grams exclaimed, eyes wide and expression showing anger. "How could you three let him get kidnapped by the Seer?" She couldn't believe her grandchildren had let that happen. They could have locked him in the attic and protected him by using crystals, they should have stopped that from happening. Her great-grandson could have been killed!

"Because Chris didn't tell us he was even seeing any of these memories." Phoebe responded, crossing her arms. She had caught onto the look on Piper's face when Grams had started up on them. Piper already felt bad for all that had happened - they all did - and Grams was just making it worse. "He kept everything secret from us - Wyatt was the one who told us, and apparently, they've been going on for about nine months now."

"Plus," Paige added, "Chris decided to act like an idiot and planned his own kidnapping."

"Why?" Patty chimed in, a bit confused by that.

"It doesn't matter." Piper insisted, cutting off Paige before her sister could continue to explain. "We just need your help to call upon our ancestors to complete the ceremony that is supposed to fix this."

A silence followed after that, the sisters waiting for Grams or Patty to say something.

A sigh suddenly escaped Grams' lips, the older woman crossing her arms as she took a few steps forward, followed by Patty, and stepped out of the circle. "Alright then." She stated, looking over all three of the sisters before her eyes landed on Piper. "Where's my great-grandson?"

* * *

Chris flung his hands out, trying to force his brother into the hard brick wall behind him, but the older boy dodged easily and gracefully, a smug smirk on his face.

"_You think you can beat _me_, Christopher?" The older Halliwell asked, disbelievingly. Chris pulled out a knife and threw it swiftly at Wyatt, eyes narrowed. Wyatt easily dodged it, moving to the left to allow the dagger to fly into the wall and land on the ground below them with a clank. "Have you forgotten who I am?" He paused for emphasis, letting Chris come closer and try to punch the older boy in the face, Wyatt quickly catching his fist, holding it tightly with his own hand, before using his telekinesis to push the boy's fist with force, causing Chris to land hard against a wall._

"_Oh God, this is so embarrassing." Wyatt told his brother, making his way towards the boy as he used the wall for support and slowly rose up, body aching. His eyes were still narrowed though, still hard and cold and determined, staring at his older brother, who had yet to even get scratched during their fight. Chris let go of the wall once he felt he had regained his balance and stared at his brother._

"_Dagger." Chris called, opening his palm and waiting for the blue and white orbs that swirled above his hand to form the sharp, metal weapon._

_Wyatt let out a laugh as he watched his brother grip the handle hard and charge his way towards him again, this time sudden flinging his free hand out and catching the older boy by surprise. Wyatt dodged quickly, barely missing the attack, but was surprised when he felt a sharp pain suddenly radiate from his chest. He looked down and spotted the dagger sticking out, the pointed side just barely visible. His brother had snuck around him while he was too busy dodging and had lunged the weapon into his chest._

_Wyatt watched as his brother made his way in front of him, staring at him with this little smile, shining his success. _

"_That was a rather smart move, little brother." Wyatt told the boy as he grabbed at the handle in his back and gripped it tightly. His free hand suddenly flung out, catching Chris by surprise and sending the boy back into a wall, his body hitting it so hard that the bricks began to crumble. Chris fell to the floor, body limp. Blood began to seep through the back of his shirt, staining the once white t-shirt a crimson red. He was still conscious, but his body had given up on him. Chris was still determined to move, still determined to fight, but his body was screaming for no more, telling him that this was as much as it could take. After fighting with his brother for an hour, it had no choice but to give up._

_Wyatt walked over to his brother, the dagger that had once been in his chest laying on the ground a few feet away, the older boy leaving a trail of passive drops of blood on the stone ground as he made his way over to his brother and leaned down next to his weak form._

_Wyatt kneeled down and lifted up his brother's weak body, pressing his injured back against the wall, the boy letting out an involuntary moan as his back was pressed against the prickling, broken bricks._

"_That was an improvement from our last showdown, I'll give you that, Christopher." Wyatt told his brother, staring at the boy's drooped head, his hair tangled and messy, obscuring his jade eyes from view. "But you're never going to beat me, you know that."_

_Wyatt watched as his brother moved his head slightly to the side, hands clenched into fists that Wyatt knew his body was too weak to even use._

_Two demons walked up behind Wyatt - two of his most loyal and trusted minions - both wearing devilish smirks as they stared down at the younger Halliwell. Of course the younger brother lost, they didn't understand why the boy kept on fighting when he had to know there was no way to beat Lord Wyatt._

"_If anyone else had tried to pull this on me, they'd be dead, you know that?" Wyatt continued, staring at his weak brother. "But don't worry; all has been forgiven, little brother."_

_Wyatt stood up from the spot where he kneeled and turned to look towards his two minions, giving each one a look that said everything without Wyatt even having to speak a word. The older brother walked away from the younger boy as the demons started their way towards the limp form against the wall. They lifted up Chris' weak form and wrapped one of his arms around each of their necks, dragging the body along with them._

_Chris looked up towards his brother, who walked ahead of them by many steps, and narrowed his eyes. He used as much strength as he could muster to move his right hand slightly, suddenly causing Wyatt to fly to the right - though not with as much force as Chris usually used. His brother just merely fell to the ground a little ways from where he was stepping. His older brother turned and looked towards him, mumbling something that Chris couldn't make out, before standing up._

_Chris suddenly felt a hard hit to the stomach, causing his head to droop back down and his chin to rest on his chest._

"_Chris! ... _Chris!"

Chris' eyes opened wide and his head suddenly snapped up, body instantly starting to ache all over, thanks to his vision. He moved his head around slowly and looked around the room, looking for the source of the calls he had just heard, but spotted no one. His eyes landed onto an open book and the legal pad that sat next to it. He wasn't sure if he had passed out or fallen asleep, but that didn't really matter. All that mattered was he fell into yet another vision and now his body ached madly. He let out a moan and picked up the legal pad next to the book, reading over what was on it. It was the rewrite of the incantation from the Book of Shadows. He had been looking through the book next to the pad to try to make sure he had gotten the wording exactly right. He didn't want to screw anything up anymore than it was. Thankfully, this time he had a basis for the incantation, he just had to tweak it here and there to get it exactly right.

"Chris, there you are."

The young boy looked up towards the voice, spotting his mother standing in the door frame of the sunroom, giving him a small smile.

"We've been looking for you." She added as she took a few steps into the sun room, watching as Chris rubbed at his temples, concern instantly perking up inside of her. "Are you okay?" She asked, taking a few steps closer to him, but stalling as Chris held up a hand to stop her.

"Yeah." He responded, looking up her way as he lowered his hand. "I'm fine."

There was a brief silence that followed Chris' response, and Piper waited a few seconds before deciding she needed to speak up, no longer able to take the awkward silence anymore. Ever since Chris had attacked Leo he'd been avoiding them, and when he couldn't avoid them, he just kept quiet. The very empty and brief conversations they'd had lately had left Piper and any other member of the family who experienced them feeling rather awkward while in Chris' presence.

"So," Piper started up, "we couldn't find you so we did the summoning without you."

"Wait." Chris' eyes suddenly went wide, looking a bit bemused. "What summoning?" He paused, before letting out a moan and lying back on the chair. "Tell me you didn't summon _Penny_."

Chris and his great-grandmother - known as Grams to his mother and aunts - did not get along. For one, she wasn't the hugest fan of the males in the Halliwell line, and he and Wyatt as well as Henry Jr. could clearly see that. They had all heard sections of the "300 years and no males until Wyatt" speech numerous times. Both Paige and Piper - mostly Piper - heard that speech quite a lot. Though his great-grandmother had mostly accepted them as male Halliwells, she still had that hate for men inside her, and that fact would never change.

"Yes, we did summon your great-grandmother." Piper started, crossing her arms as she noticed Chris give out another moan in irritation. "We also summoned your grandmother as well."

Chris let out a sigh and looked towards his mother, very irked. "God, mom, why'd you have to summon Penny? She's such a -"

"Don't even say it, young man." Penny's voice cut in harshly as she made her way into the room, followed by Paige, Phoebe, and Patty. She wore a hard expression, eyes narrowed at her great-grandson, giving him a warning not just with her words.

Chris finished the sentence under his breath before he suddenly heard his grandmother exclaim, "Oh my gosh!" She ran over to him swiftly and gave him a smile, all ready to gush over her grandson.

"You've grown up to be so handsome!" She studied his face with a wide smile, before pulling him into a hug. Piper, Phoebe and Paige all wore small smiles as they watched the scene from a few feet away, and Piper caught onto the annoyed look that took over her son's features.

Chris was counting down the seconds until this hug would finally end, his grandmother would finally stop gushing over him, and they could just get this whole thing over with. The sooner it was over with, the sooner his great-grandmother - who wasn't the most fond of him - would be gone. He didn't really like family reunions with the deceased too much, and this was why.

When Patty finally released Chris, the boy gave a weak smile and greeting to be polite before quickly grabbing up his legal pad and holding it up towards his mother. "I made the alterations to the spell." He told her as she stepped forward and grabbed the yellow papers from him. "I'm not too good with wording when it comes to spells, but I think that should be alright." He gave a shrug, before standing up and letting out a yawn.

Phoebe, Grams and Paige made their way over to Piper and all read over the spell, each giving nods of approval.

"It'll work." Grams declared, looking over to her great-grandson, who just gave a nod in reply.

Phoebe looked up from the spell and let her eyes landed on Chris. "I'll get everything ready upstairs." Phoebe told them all. The emotions Chris was radiating were still hectic and crazy, and Phoebe really needed to get out of there before her head exploded. She gave her nephew a comforting smile - something she had seemed to be doing every time she saw the young teenager - before heading out of the room and up to the attic.

Chris was starting to feel the urge to get the hell out of the room before his deceased relatives could ask any questions or his mother and aunt could try to start up a conversation.

"I'm going to - uh - go get some air." He told them, nodding and adding a quick, "Yeah" before hurrying his way out of the room, all eyes following him as he did so.

"What's wrong with him?" Grams asked, watching with a bit of concern as her great-grandson obviously rushed out of the room to get away from the rest of his family.

"You mean other than the whole other Chris thing?" Piper started, her eyes still on the doorway where Chris exited, a bit of worry and concern filling her. "A lot of things."

"You see," Paige started, deciding to clarify for the two witches, "we forgot to mention that we never told Chris about the other Chris, and he found out that we knew, and he's _really _mad right now." She paused, before adding for emphasis, "_Really_ mad. He beat the crap out of Leo yesterday - though that was more of the other Chris than him, but there was a little of him doing the punching as well."

Grams and Patty stared at the two sisters, an eyebrow raised, a bit confused.

"Gosh." Patty exclaimed. "This time travel stuff is _so_ confusing."

"You have no idea." Piper replied, her eyes wandering over to the doorframe once again, wondering where her son had gone off to. She hated how distant they had become, she hated that he could barely stand to be in a room with her anymore. Some of it was her fault, she knew - she should have told him everything - but he had no idea how much it hurt her. She prayed that after this was all over with, somehow, things could get back to normal. But a part of her knew things would never be like they used to be, they could get better, but they would never be the same. Not after all of this.

* * *

Chris sat in the middle of a circle of candles, watching as his Aunt Phoebe lit each white candle up, the wick catching on fire, burning brightly, causing the wax surrounding it to begin to melt. He watched her with such concentration, but his mind was elsewhere. He hoped this worked, he _needed_ this to work. He needed to _sleep_, he was so tired, and after months and months of living like an insomniac, he needed some real sleep. Without the visions coming so frequently, he could sleep. Without the pain, he wouldn't jolt up awake, aching all over, or even _bleeding._ It wasn't always the pain that kept him awake though, what he saw - all the death, all the pain - that was the real problem. Less of that would be amazing.

His eyes wandered off to where his father and brother sat. His father's face showed no marks of what he had done yesterday. By the force of his punches and where his fists had collided with his skin, there should be a massive bruise on his cheek, his right eye should be swollen and purple, and there should be a bruise below his lip. He couldn't remember every punch, but most of them landed around those areas. He still felt a little bad about that, but it hadn't been him - well, a little had been him, but otherwise, it was all the other Chris. Hopefully this ceremony would stop all of the emotions the other Chris felt from flooding him and taking him over.

Wyatt was staring at him, trying to talk to him through their Bond, but Chris was muting him out. He was thankful that he could do that, because anything his brother had to say to him, he doubted he wanted to hear. He was still a little peeved that Wyatt had told, and he wouldn't get over it for a while. Sure, they were talking civilly when necessary, but they weren't on the greatest terms. Wyatt would just have to deal with that and wait it out until his anger settled enough that he was ready to actually be friends with him again. It would happen, Chris knew that, he could not stay mad at his brother forever, but until then, Wyatt would just have to wait.

Phoebe stood up and looked towards her nephew, the young teenager looking up at her for a brief moment before focusing his gaze off somewhere below her.

"Are you ready, Chris?" Grams asked from her spot outside of the circle, Patty and the sisters standing close to her, the paper containing the altered spell in her hand.

Her young great-grandson looked up towards her, shrugging his shoulders slightly, before replying. "I guess."

Though it was a simple ceremony - although it required a lot of power - Chris had a feeling this wouldn't be as simple as it seemed, and he'd have to pay some small price for forcing the other Chris' soul apart from his. From what he guessed, he would just feel a lot of pain. Ripping a part of your soul away from the rest isn't something that would be pain free. When a soul separates from the body, it's painful, and pulling and tugging at certain parts until they're barely hanging on just sounded more painful than simply releasing the soul completely.

Penny started up:

"_I call forth from space and time_

_Matriarchs of the Halliwell Line_

_Mothers, Daughters, Sisters, Friends_

_Our family spirit without end._

_To gather now, in this sacred place_

_and help us bring this child to grace."_

The family all watched as many apparitions began to appear, all standing in a group near the side of the circle Chris sat in. They all focused their gaze his way, as if they already knew of everything that was going on and why they had been called. Chris looked up at them, staring at the many unfamiliar female faces, before turning his head a little to focus on his mother.

Penny looked to her daughter and granddaughters, then to their many ancestors behind her, her look being the cue needed for them to know that they would start chanting the spell.

They all started, voices in synch:

"_Life from Life_

_and mind from mind_

_Two spirits now_

_will disentwine_

_Part these souls_

_and make them no longer one whole_

_To let one's thoughts_

_be on their own." _

Chris suddenly felt a strong pain in his chest, the boy closing his eyes tight and gripping onto his shirt. He could really feel it, feel the other Chris' soul being torn apart from his own. The pain was hard to describe, it was like nothing he had ever felt before, and he felt himself getting nauseous. He wished the Elders had warned him of the pain he was going to ensue by doing this stupid ceremony, but no, the Elders had to just leave that out. If he had known, he would have taken a couple of painkillers or something in preparation for it.

Piper wanted to rush over to her son, noticing his obvious pain and distress, but Grams had gently grabbed her arm as she took a step forward, keeping her back. It was hard for all of them to watch, but it was part of the ceremony. This wasn't something that was done naturally, you usually did not rip apart at certain parts of a soul, it wasn't exactly the safest thing to do.

Suddenly, Chris looked much more at ease. His hand released its tight grip on his shirt and his eyes opened, looking tired, but almost different. It was a different none of them could exactly pinpoint, but there was something in his eyes that they hadn't seen in a while. Chris looked up towards them.

"How do we know if it worked?" Paige asked, looking down towards her nephew, thinking that the young teenager would have the answer.

"It worked." Chris told her. He felt different, really different. It was like this weight had been lifted off from him, and he finally felt free. There were no more voices, his emotions were his own, but he knew that the other Chris' were still in there somewhere. That didn't matter to him though. The other Chris would always be a part of him, he knew that, and although he felt so different, he could still feel the other Chris' soul inside him, still hanging on, but ripped and torn in certain areas. That was okay though, because as long as it wasn't whole with his own anymore, he wouldn't have to deal with the pain anymore.

"I don't get how you know that." Paige questioned. There had been no bright light that appeared off him, no magical sign that everything had worked correctly. All there was was Chris' apparent pain, and Paige wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.

"I just know." Chris shrugged, not really sure how to explain the feeling he had, deciding to just leave it simply as, "I can feel it."

* * *

Thank you all so much for reading and hopefully reviewing!

This would be the last real chapter for this story, and I will post up the Epilogue tomorrow or Tuesday. You'll have to give me a little time to start up on the sequel, I'm working on the outline and I need to start writing the first chapter.

Thanks again for reading, and I will post the Epilogue up as soon as I can (it's only like three pages, so it won't take too long to edit).

:)


	25. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, as usual. We all get it by now.**

I know probably not all of you have had time to read the last chapter, but for those who have, here is the epilogue.

I know it's rather short, but I just needed it as a lead in for the next story, (which I will start writing soon, I promise!).

Enjoy that last little bit of this rather long story!

:)

* * *

Chris sat in the kitchen, gripping onto a mug of coffee, taking sips of the warm brew as he stared out the window. It was still dark out the sun was starting to peak its way up in the sky, the moon having its last minutes of light until the next night. Chris was up early, something that he rarely did anymore. It had been two weeks since they had preformed the ceremony on him, two weeks of vision free bliss and peaceful sleep, until now. He had had his first vision since that fateful day, and though there had been no pain, it still affected him. It had been just like some hideous nightmare - like it used to be, before everything started to get so bad. Wyatt as a sadistic Ruler of All Evil, and he, just the younger brother filled with disgust towards the elder boy. He watched as his brother killed so many innocents, unable to help, held back and confined by chains. It had been some sort of ambush, he had been caught off-guard, captured yet again, and the people who had been hiding him were being punished as Wyatt seemed fit. Even after seeing so many visions, so many deaths, he still couldn't get used to it. It was disturbing, and he didn't know if he'd ever see his brother - his real brother - in the same light again. Although everything was as good as it was going to get with these visions, he knew that his relationship with his family was really shattered. Too many things had happened in his visions for everything to just be okay between them.

"Chris."

His mother's voice caused him to turn his gaze from the window and look her way, catching onto the worried look that graced her features. Her long hair was up in a ponytail and she was wrapped in a robe, brown eyes half open and tired.

"What are you doing up so early?" She asked, concerned. "Did something happen with -"

"I just had a vision, that's all." Chris replied, cutting her off with shrug of his shoulders. "It's not big deal or anything."

Piper made her way to the table and sat down beside her son. Of course her son would try to shrug it off. Whenever anything was bothering him he just shrugged it off, refused to talk about it or admit that it really was bugging him. He didn't like to talk to her like he used to. Piper didn't know if this was just him growing up or it was because of the visions. He didn't like to burden others with his problems now, he just didn't seem to understand that that was what she and his father were there for. You burden your parents with your problems because it is their _job_ to try to make things better.

"Was it really bad?" Piper asked, desperate to try to console her obviously affected son. She never liked to see any pone of her children upset or pained

Chris just shrugged again. "Not really. I didn't feel anything, it was just ... I don't know, it just felt like a nightmare."

Before his mother could start up with gushing over him and trying to comfort him, Chris added. "I'm okay though, just didn't feel like sleeping anymore, that's all."

That was somewhat of a lie, he wasn't exactly _okay. _ After seeing innocents be slaughtered in your dreams you weren't okay, but he wasn't going to tell his mother that. He didn't want to talk about it, he didn't want to tell her or his father or anyone in the family about what he was seeing, about every death that plagued his thoughts for days even after he witnessed them in his visions. He hated it, he hated still having to see these things, but it was as good as it was going to get, and if he had to deal with it for the rest of his life, then so be it (though that thought was not pleasing in the least).

"Alright." Piper said, giving her son a nod. She watched as the boy took a sip of his coffee before turning his eyes back to the window. "How about you try to go get some sleep? It's a Saturday, and seeing a teenager not sleep in just doesn't seem right to me." She wore a small smile as she said that, and Chris looked her way, staring at her for a minute as he contemplated her suggestion, before giving a shrug and placing his mug down on the table.

"I'm not a normal teenager though." Chris responded as he stood from his seat. "But I'll give it a try." He honestly was just in a mood to be alone, and his mother's presence and her worry and concern did not really help that in any way. His relationship with her still wasn't too good - it was slowly healing - but it was far from what she would like it to be.

Piper gave him a smile, reminding him that he _was_, in fact, a normal teenager (that was completely untrue) before Chris made his way out of the room. As he reached the stairs, he suddenly spotted something in the corner of his eye - no, it wasn't something, it was _someone_. Before Chris could turn himself around and prepare himself, the thing rushed over his way and pushed him into a wall, his pale, veiny long fingers gripping hard onto his neck, long nails piercing his skin. Chris looked straight into the black eyes of the grotesque demon, eyes narrowing as he stared into them, though on the inside he was screaming in fear. He was staring right at the Source, who was looking rather angry, which did not mean anything good for Chris. He squeezed his fingers tighter against Chris' neck, fingers digging harder into his skin, and the young witches eyes widened, oxygen suddenly being blocked from his craving lungs.

"You think you could just get away with killing the Seer without any consequences, Halliwell boy?" He hissed, tightening his grip even more, causing Chris to claw frantically at his neck. His finger gripped onto the Source's hand, prying with no avail at his long fingers. He was scared now, scared beyond belief. He didn't want to die!

"You messed with the wrong demon, _witch._"

Chris stared straight into the black, dark eyes of the Source, and managed to gasp out, "Are you. Going to. Kill ... me?"

"Not yet." The Source hissed, a small, devilish smirk curling on his lips, watching as the Halliwell boy struggled. He enjoyed it, seeing the dumb little witch squirm and pry frantically in fear. The Haillwell boy's life was in his hands now, and he bathed in the fear and had been lusting for this control. "I'm going to make you suffer. I'm going to make your whole _family _suffer." He told the boy, banging his back hard against the shut his eyes and flinched, fingers stopping their constant prying for that moment, instead just gripping hard.

"I'm going to make your waste of a life a living _hell, _you stupid little witch_."_

"Chris!" Piper screamed as she walked into the foyer, spotting the Source himself strangling her child, her _baby_. The Source looked her way, black eyes narrowing. Piper instantly brought her hands up and flicked her fingers, the Source shimmering out before her attack could even singe him.

Chris' body fell to the floor with a thud, the teenager coughing and gasping madly for breathe, body trying to suck in as much oxygen as his raspy breaths could gather. Piper rushed her way over to her son and kneeled down next to him, instantly wrapping her arms around the boy and bringing him close to her in a protective hold. She held him tight against her as the boy struggled for air, hearing the rushing footsteps of her husband and older son pounding on the stairs. As they made their way to Piper and Chris, listening to the boy's harsh gasps and spotting the way Piper held him, they knew what had just happened had to be bad.

"Mom, what happened?" Wyatt asked, his features matching his father's almost perfectly, shining concern and worry in a perfect mix.

Piper didn't answer, her mind still running over what had just happened, the demon's face - his dark eyes - still staring straight at her in her mind. She had heard what he had said to her son, he was going to make his life a "living _hell_." She kept thinking back to the moment she walked in and heard that, saw that demon strangling her son, saw her son struggling to break free, struggling to breathe, right in the hands of death. He wanted to hurt her baby, that demon wanted to hurt her youngest child.

Piper pulled Chris tighter to her, listening as his breathing finally began to slow its pace, the gasps becoming less frequent and returning to a somewhat normal sound. She had thought everything was over, she thought everything was finally okay now, but she had been wrong.

This was just the beginning.

* * *

Thank you all for reading and hopefully reviewing for the last time for this story!

I hoped you all liked it as much as I liked writing it, and I will start the sequel as soon as I can. Yes, Bianca will be in it (she's not gone) and Chris will still have visions, as you can all see.

I believe I'm titling the sequel _Soul Of A Man - _after a great Beck song (if you didn't notice, I tend to name my stories after songs, I suck at creating titles) - so look out for it. I'll try to get it done this week and post it sometime next week.

Until then, I thank you all again for reading this story and giving your support through reviews!

I hope you enjoyed it.

:)


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